


Sing a Song of Saw Cleavers

by SaintImperator



Series: The Trilogy of Smoke and Blood [1]
Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), Bloodbourne
Genre: Other, Yharnam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:21:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 163,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6655885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintImperator/pseuds/SaintImperator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story about mainly original characters, the hunters that may have existed and is set a little ways before the Bloodbourne game begins. It's a long story, and this is only the first part, it's largely my interpretation of the Bloodbourne world and my theories about what kind of things may have happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hear the Sound of the Pouring Rain

**Author's Note:**

> So this story was started after playing about four hours of Bloodbourne on my friends PS4. I knew very little about the world and characters, I hadn't even managed to make it past the bonfire yet. I had never played a game like this before, nothing like Dark Souls or even anything vaguely combat based. Previous gaming expeirence being Animal Crossing and Ham-Ham Heartbreak.
> 
> But the world of Yharnam captivated me and I couldn't help but want to know more. At this moment in time I still haven't beaten Bloodbourne but I couldn't keep the words back. I beg of you to forgive any inaccuracies that might occur because of this, but I hope that you might enjoy this story nonetheless.

Hell has got to be some otherworldly damp kind of place. Burning for all eternity sounds pretty bad, but it can’t be as bad as the rain blowing in your face and soaking you to the bone. Can’t be as bad as rain running through the city gutters and churning up all the muck and debris into an unholy stench that clings to your clothes and hair. Hell’s a drowning chokingly cold, wind-in-your-face kind of place and there’s no priest in any cathedral or behind any pulpit that’s going to convince me otherwise. You end up hearing a lot about hell if you’re a kid on the streets. Churches will usually let you inside to get out of the pouring rain for an hour or so if you let them bend your ear with their yammering. I must’ve been to a dozen different ones and I’m still fuzzy on whose god did what but most are adamant about fiery lakes and brimstone and that kind of thing. Still you don’t see us flocking in to churches when it’s warm out. Even on a muggy, thick, air hard to breathe kinda we still tough it out in the streets. We’re out there even when the cobblestones are scalding right through the soles of your feet. It’s not til it starts to come down that we scatter, shivering to the nearest form of shelter.  


It was raining again today; I leaned up against one of the pillars in the South End Cathedral and watched the drops trickle down the leaded glass panes of the windows. You could feel the cold blowing in through small cracks and gaps in the window frame. I knew I could warm up if I went further inside, stood next to some of those candles maybe, but they were practicing some kind of ritual up at the front and I didn’t intend to intrude on anything. Despite the oft repeated affirmation that patience is a virtue these places tended to kick you out if you interrupted or weren’t the perfect grateful and meek little mouse they wanted you to be. You had to be on your best behavior in churches, and that steamed me up real good, so I hung back and hoped that the rain would let up.  


South End ran a service every day of the week. This was probably because they wanted to keep that collection plate going around. The brothers and sisters who ran this place don’t mind if you stay the night so long as you’re out before their service. However, they start pealing those damn bells before the suns even come up, and waking up early has never been my cup of tea. I’m more of a night owl.  


The wind whistled and the pastor up front droned on. My clothes were soaked through real bad and I was leaving puddles wherever I stood. My hair was all a mess too. Went it got to be damp like this it fluffed out and made it look like I had a haystack on my head. I inched towards a tapestry that was hanging on one of the pillars and tried to use the back side of it for a towel without attracting attention. There were tassels and bells on the crosspiece at the top so I quickly deemed my plan unwise.  
Forced to venture further in I tried at one of the confessional booths, the first two were locked tight, but I was able to duck into the third one down. There was a rather moist trail of footprints left behind and the seat inside was one of those fancy velvet type deals, definitely the sort to be ruined by a wet rag of a thing like myself.  


I checked the little slider that the priest hides behind to ensure my solitude and finding it suitably vacant, relaxed. Now there was a good chance I’d be forgotten about and they’d finish their little rehearsal and head home to their fancy town houses. Having the benefit of long spindly arms, not entirely unlike the limbs of a spider I was able to reach through the slide door and get ahold of the back table runner that the priest kept his bible on and pull it back onto my side. I gave it a good yank and pulled it through the slide door back onto my side. I was able to towel off with it and keep from covering the ground in puddles.  


Outside they we’re going through it all with the incense or whatever. It waved back and forth like a pendulum and left a zig-zagging pattern of blue and purple smoke behind it that would eventually dissipate and rise to the lofted ceilings. It made the whole place smell strange, and it leaked into the confessional booth so much that my vision would go all fuzzy and my head would buzz. Still, it was a good sign because it meant the practice was just about over. I popped the confessional door open just a crack so I could watch them parade past. Last to go by me was the priest who no doubt had taken extra time to secure the Eucharist in its fancy little box. They kept it under lock and key, thinking it was secure but there’s nothing a well-placed piece of wire and a deft hand can’t pop open. They called it sacred, I called it dinner. 

Once I was sure that the doors of South End Cathedral were closed for the night I stepped out into the empty sanctuary. The whole room had been doused in shadows, the only light coming from a few of the tiny prayer candles that were never supposed to be blown out. I used one of them to light some of the lanterns and gave the place a nice warm glow. 

I jimmied the lock on the holy bread open and paraded up and down the aisles munching the body of Christ in one hand and taking sips from communion wine with the other. Churches were dull as doorknobs during the day but after hours the right kind of person could enjoy them. I looted a few coins from the church donation coffers, again these people believe in the security of locks and keys much more then they should. It was not so much as it would be noticed by the coin counters right away, but certainly enough to keep a person like me fed for a few days. 

After committing my sins I settled down on one of the pews, padded with a few of the priests’ robes. They made for decent enough pillows and blankets. I left my coin purse in the confessional and put back the bottles and bread. It was always best to prepare an innocent façade in case you were to wake up to an angry nun in your face.

The sound of rain pounding on the roof of the church was extremely satisfying. I grinned up at the cavernous ceiling. I felt like one of the three little pigs- the successful one anyway. Those rain drops could pound and pound but they weren’t coming in, no matter how hard they huffed and puffed. I fell asleep satisfied and began to dream.

I would often wake up because the smell of the place would change, and that was always your signal to scram. If the bakery you’d been laying low in suddenly began to smell like dough or eggs then you’d better climb out the basement window and on to the streets. If you were taking shelter in one of the spaces actually designated for people without families and you started to smell carrots and onions, they were already making up the breakfast soup and you were already late and bound to be last in line. 

My first thought was that it was just more of the unholy smoke-swayer clogging up my nostrils but upon regaining more coherent thought that was so incorrect it was astounding. This smell was awful beyond awful, and this coming from someone who has slept in a sewer before. It wasn’t bodily either, nothing like piss or vomit or anything of that digested and overworked nature. This was the smell of death and rot and decay, spoiled flesh and rancid meat. This was a carcass left out in the sun, although there was no sun to heat it to its putrid perfume. Something was wrong here, in the most extreme sense.  
All of the lanterns and candles had been blown out. I peered over the back of the pew I’d been resting in and saw only shadows. I heard a shuffling not too far off and quickly came to the conclusion that I wasn’t alone anymore. I turned the other way, not towards the door but to the front stage area of the church. I had to squint to see in the darkness but there was something there, I couldn’t get a grasp on size or species but I could make out a set of eyes, glowing the same blueish-purple as incense smoke did. They did not have iris or pupils, just large gaping, glowing holes. 

Whatever they were they must have walked right past me and not noticed and I had a strong urge to lay right back down and feign sleep until they left. It hadn’t noticed me before and who’s to say it would now. 

I was just lowering myself back onto the bench when it mumbled something in a gruff and gravely tone. I couldn’t be sure whether it was words or sounds, it didn’t speak loudly. Translation at this point was unimportant, new sounds quickly dominated the room. A dog let out a bark; I hadn’t realized that this thing had a companion. The bark transitioned into snuffling and sniffing and I was sure this mangy mutt was going to find me before too long. Its four feet bounded down the stairs of the stage and it padded confidently down the aisles. The closer it came the worse the smell got. Quick as I could I rolled off the pew and under the bench, not that hiding from a hound was going to be of any use. 

As far back as I was in the church it was still just a matter of time. Defense was not going to do the trick this time. Screw hiding; I clambered out from beneath the bench and made a dash for the confessional. Unless the dog could work a doorknob I’d be safe in there. I could hold that door barricaded for a good long while until the church people came back.

It might have been a great plan but this dog was damn fast. The thing leapt at me and had me down in a second. He was snarling and spewing drool. Its eyes were greenish-yellow like a spoiled egg yolk and its dishwater-gray fur fell out in clumps when I tried to get a hand on it. My fingers seemed to sink into the beast, like it was made of dough, and the awful smell right in your face was horrific. 

The dog had me pinned and he let out a triumphant howl showcasing his yellowed teeth and long mangled neck. The dog’s master began shuffling towards me. I writhed and wriggled for all I was worth under the weight of the ugly thing. I yanked its ears but it showed no concept of pain. I stretched my arms to the sides as far as they would go scrambling for something that could help. I felt the cold metal base of one of the lantern holders and was just getting a grip on it when a filthy black boot stomped down on my hand. It hurt like hell, and the more I yanked trying to break free the harder the pressure on my hand became. I could feel skin scraped off by the stone floor with every tug. 

“Watcha doin’ ‘ere boy?” The gruff voice rasped out at me. 

I looked up into the smoke-eyed creature from before. It had the size and shape of a human, and it was dressed in dark grungy top hat and coat like anyone you’d seen walking the streets but its skin was black like oil. It had long matted hair that fell over its shoulders, across its face and down its back. 

“I wasn’t doing nothing but sleeping.” I replied. 

“Gerroff him.” The thing commanded his dog. 

The hideous creature left off me and stood sedately by his master’s side. Its rotten-egg eyes stayed glued to me. 

“S’rather unfortunate you findin’ yourself ‘ere tonight. See I don’t particularly enjoy me job, ‘specially not when it involves…complications like yourself gettin’ in me way. I just can’t let you off, you havin’ seen me and all. I’m gonna’ have to kill you boy.” 

He withdrew a long knife from his coat, rusty and nicked and slightly curved. 

“You don’t have to kill me! Listen ok I’m just a street urchin kid no ones gonna listen to nothing I say anyway. I’d have no one to tell.” I pleased.

“Swindler to the end are ya?” It laughed and raised the knife above its head. He brought it down in a quick slash but before he could make contact I kicked my leg out as far as it would go and knocked the ghastly guy flat. His knife grazed my side as he fell and the foot that had pinned me slid back taking my hand along with it. I was partially trapped under him but I sprung up as quickly as I could and grab the lantern holder. It had an unlit lantern of metal and leaded glass at the end of a pole. 

Smoke-Eye’s dog snarled and leapt at me. I spun the lamp holder wrong ways and slammed him in the chest with its metal stand. Dog and master both for the moment incapacitated I made a dash for the door. Once outside I could loose myself in the alleys and they’d never track me down. Hell I’d never come to South End Cathedral again not for all the coins in their coffers. I yanked at the door handle but it didn’t budge. 

I could hear the demon dog scrambling to his feet again. The scrape of his claws on the stone church floor was sharp and distinct. I pulled at the door again before realizing the bolt was still holding it closed. I wrenched the bolt open and tugged the door again. The heavy oak finally let me through and I took off down the church stairs three at a time. 

The rain still coming down by the buckets felt amazing. The streets were dark. The only light came from the orange glow of an occasional street lamp. All the rain couldn’t wash the smell out of my nostrils, that death stench. I looked over my shoulder and the horrible hound was still after me, splashing up puddles as it sprinted. South End Church was in a nice part of town and it would be a block or so before there were any alleys or half decent side streets to dash down. 

My lungs were desperate for air as I charged down the sidewalk but there was no way I was going to stop now. The dog was hot on my heels. In my alleys there’d be rocks or bottles or something to toss at it and dissuade the thing but here they actually kept the streets clean. 

I’d never met a dog that could climb before, I’m sure Smoke-Eyes could but escaping his dog took priority. I cut across some mansions lawn and grabbed the top of its iron backyard gate. I kicked off with my feet and pulled myself over. My legs and limbs were scratched by the points at the top of the gate but that was a small price to pay in exchange for some manner of safety from this dog. He drove his neck between the bars snapping and snarling but there was no way for him to get over. I took a half second to catch my breath before darting across the backyard and vaulting a fence into another, taking a roundabout way to familiar territory. 

I had no idea how long I’d been running til I bust through the back door of a boarding house and realized where I was. I was Back in the slums and hopefully safe from harm. Some sleepy voice told me to shut up. I closed the door and slunk between sleeping spaces. They were all full; no surprise on a night like tonight, but it wasn’t worth trying to sleep anyway. The sun would be up soon and there was no way I could forget what I’d seen by then. If the foreman caught me here he’d charge me for it and since all of my money was stashed under the velvet cushion of the South End confessional. I literally could not afford to stay here. All the same I was unwilling to risk looking for safer shelter. The wrath of the foreman would be a thousand times better than the jaws of the dog. I slipped into the bathroom and waited until I heard the sound of people stirring. I could slip out with the morning crowd if I was lucky. 

The smell of the boarding room toilet wasn’t pleasant but I’d take it over the dog’s stench any day. The wait for morning was one of those weird ones where it takes forever and yet no time at all. Before I knew it I was pushed out the door with a crowd of street kids and back onto the dirt paths I’d sprinted through the night before. 

I was trying to just shake things off and forget about Smoke-Eyes but the consistently throbbing pain in my side made it hard for last night’s events to just leave me alone. None of the gashes from last night had dug particularly deep but they all stung like a fresh papercut. Patching myself up was probably a good idea. Considering all my worldly wealth was stuck under the cushion of a confessional I took it upon myself to seek out some assistance.

I headed down towards the harbor where one Mallory Cauldwell was known to frequent. Mallory ran one of the few operations in the city that the authorities hadn’t managed to dismantle. Her gang was usually just involved in small time crimes and petty theft but she’d been moving up to bigger targets and rumor had it she planned on stealing a ship and taking her operation overseas. Fortunately for me this plan had yet to come to fruition.

My search began and ended with a trip to the Salty Seahorse, a tiny little inn. The place was so close to the water that the metal was rusted from sea spray. I pushed open the rickety wooden door and stepped inside. A fireplace provided limited light and warmth, the smells of meat pies and spilled alcohol mingled with the smoky smell of the crackling logs. My stomach growled, and I scanned the room for Mallory. She wasn’t hard to find, the Inn was too small for there to be any dark corners to lurk in but she was trying her best, sat as far away from the fire as possible. She had her legs propped up on the worn wooden table and a plate of half-eaten food was close at hand. She was reading a pamphlet and seemed to be distracted but I was sure her eagle eyes were scanning the room every few seconds. She was not the kind of person you could surprise.

I approached her table and pulled up a spare chair, “Morning Mallory.”

She set her literature down and took her feet off the table, readjusting herself before replying. “Sterling? It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you around.”

“Yeah you know me I don’t like running with one outfit for too long.”

She nodded and changed the subject “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“I recently uh..went through some events and misplaced some of my funds. I was hoping you might have someone in your gang willing to retrieve it for me.” 

She lowered an eyebrow in thought, “Why not just go get it yourself? What do you need my help for?”

I stood up and indicated the scars that Smoke-Eyes had given me. “I got into a bit of a scrape the other night.”

She let out a whistle “Shit. Who exactly did you get tangled up with?”

“No one. Look that’s not the important part, do you have someone who can do the job or not?” I growled sitting back down, “I haven’t exactly had the best morning, or night for that matter.”

She sighed and pushed her plate towards me. “Dig in.”

I nodded my thanks and began to satiate my snarling stomach with cold pot pie and crusty bread. She went on to explain things as I stuffed my face.

“You always come to me at the worst times. I’m sure you’re completely unaware of this because you have this super annoying habit of letting any and all current events go totally and completely over your head but there’s an epidemic going on. People are disappearing, from my gang, from orphanages and South Town, Eightball’s lost a few guys. Everyone from everywhere except Uptown.”

Here she flung the pamphlet towards me. She should’ve known it wouldn’t make a lick of difference owing to the fact that I couldn’t read.

“I’ve been busy trying to look into it and I can’t really spare anybody at the moment. I can take you somewhere to get those wounds looked at though, and I’ll foot the bill to boo. Provided that you keep a look out for more information about these vanishings.” She offered

“I’ll keep an eye out Mal, I promise.” I said. It wasn’t likely I’d get a better offer. Once I was fixed up I could find other funds, fuck South End.

“Then we better get going. You know how the line at Doc Keller’s can get.” She nodded to the bar keeper and headed for the door.

Mallory led us out into the street with a confident stride. Once we proceeded beyond direct eyesight of the Salty Seahorse her demeanor changed. She dropped into a crouch and motioned me behind her and into a back alley.

“What are you doing Mal? Waterfront’s always been your territory.” I asked

“Shit Sterling did you honestly take in nothing from what I said inside? The Vanishers are out here somewhere. You can’t be too careful.” She shot back venomously

“Oh so being concealed in alleyways and climbing over rooftops is somehow more safe then a highly populated area with lots of other people who would definitely notice and or hear us if we were to go missing?”

She tossed her hair in irritation, black ringlets swishing in the crisp harbor air, “Do you want my help or not?”

“I do.”

“Then shut up and follow me.”

We traipsed through alleyways, skirted trash barrels and scaled fences. Doc. Keller had an office, well a practice- more of just a location really in the meat packing district. It was disturbingly located in between a butcher shop and a leatherworks place. It was hard to feel like you were getting a decent examination in the locale alone not to mention the fact that Doc. Keller didn’t really have any formal training. He’d learned what he could from a variety of medical books and he’d studied some dug up corpses but he didn’t hold any. It was for that very reason that we could afford to go see him because he couldn’t charge half so much as other professionals.

If this wasn’t reason enough already as to why Keller’s was a place I hesitated to go, the interior of his office was the most prime candidate. You got your examination and treatment while seated on a rickety wooden table which was covered over with the same brown paper they used for wrapping meat in next door at the butchers. There were brains and arms in jars of green liquid on a shelving unit across from the table. The unit also housed his medical books and the skulls and bones of various animals. The wooden floorboards were a full-color mural of all the stains of all the people who had been there before you. There were diagrams and notes scribbled on the walls drawn and written by Doc. Keller himself.

Mallory walked past a few other people who were waiting in Keller’s tiny little hallway and pounded on the door to his office.

“Just take a number and wait!” He barked at her from behind the door.

“Don’t have time for you to take all day. It’s Mallory Cauldwell and I’m only dropping someone off. Just put Sterling on my tab ok?” She barked back.

It was so very much like a butcher’s shop with its take a number system. I grabbed a piece of parchment from a bowl by the door. I held it up to Mallory and she informed me I was number eight.

“Fine fine whatever.” He mumbled back.

“See you around.” Mallory said to me, “And don’t forget to report back to me if you find anything.”

I nodded and slumped against a wall. It took a while for Doc. Keller to get around to seeing me. The light coming in around the door turned gold in the sunset and started to fade. My fingers started getting cold when the nighttime air blew through the little imperfections in the building.

“Last one of the day, huh?” Keller asked me when I finally sat down on top of his table. The whole thing rattled the instant I touched it. My hands gripped either side of the tabletop tightly in an attempt to steady it. “What seems to be the trouble?”

“Got into a bit of a scrape.” I said lifting up my shirt to show the work Smoke-Eyes’ knife had done.

Keller’s eyes sparkled with interest and he waved a hand for me to continue. What was I supposed to tell him? I’m sure he’d heard all kinds of things by now, rival gangs getting territorial and nasty, sure. There was always someone with a bit too much opium as well and they’d spin you a tale so tall you could see clear to the other side of the world from it. I had neither gang ties nor opium to blame my problems on.

“A…uh knife fight I guess you could say.” I continued.

“Pretty big knife.” Keller assessed. 

“Mmhmm.”

“It’s definitely wanting for stitches I can tell you that.” Keller replied before padding over to his shelf full of books. He ran his finger across their spines searching for one in particular, hooking a finger around the binding he pulled it free. He began to thumb through the pages, eyes darting across in quick scans seeking some specific bit of knowledge.  


“You do know how to give stitches don’t you Doc?” I questioned.  


“Yes of course I do.” He said still flipping through his book. He paused and read a paragraph before snapping the tome closed. “But it never hurts to look things over before we give it a go. I’m going to give you a sleeping draft alright? It’s easier if you’re unconscious for all of this.”  


“No argument there Doc.” I replied.  


He rummaged around in a drawer before pulling out a small bottle. There was an amber colored liquid inside and he handed it to me, “Just drink that down and I’ll get you all fixed up.”  


I uncorked the bottle, took a gulp and then the world went hazy.

When I woke up my eyelids felt like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t seem to lift them. Wherever I was it was cold. The old lettuce smell of Doc. Keller’s office had changed to a much more pleasant one. The air smelled like lilac and warm wax, someone must’ve been burning fancy candles. I couldn’t imagine the kind of person who would bring the doctor that sort of gift.  


More details started to fill in as my mind untangled itself from the haze. The table I was on didn’t shake when I tried to sit up. This couldn’t be Doc. Keller’s’. Then the voices started. I couldn’t make out just what they were saying, as though they were in another room. I rubbed at my eyes and scratched the sleep-sand from their tear ducts until finally they relented. I was defiantly not at Doc. Keller’s’.


	2. Behind Closed Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was getting more and more play time in Bloodborne so I hope the world starts to focus in a bit more. Please keep in mind I wrote this before finishing the game so there's some discrepancies here and there.

The room I was in had no diagrams on the walls, only a framed painting of the countryside. I was in a bed, a clean bed. The table next to the bed had a few large candles burning on top of it along with a pitcher of water. I tried to sit up but my side throbbed and I let out a yelp. The voices stopped and the door opened.

 

I’d never seen either of the people who entered the room before, and they did not at all seem like the kind of clients who would have to stoop to visiting a place like Doc. Keller’s. The first was a woman with silver hair. She was wearing a red dress under a black vest with gold embroidery. She walked with her head held high. She carried a cane that had a dragon head handle, though she didn’t appear to need it due to any kind of mobility issues or age related problems. Despite the coloration of her hair she didn’t appear very old.

The second person was shorter and skinnier and wore large round glasses. She was dressed in a brown vest and pants whose attached suspenders hung loose like two drooping rabbit ears. She had orange hair that seemed a mess curling in some parts and sticking out in spikes elsewhere, dirt stained her boots and she carried a big book with papers sticking out from between the pages.

“You’re awake.” The woman with the cane said.

“Yeah, do you know where Doc. Keller went I think I might’ve messed up my stitches or something.” I replied

“I sent him away.” The same woman replied with a wave of her hand

“Don’t you think it might’ve been useful to keep a doctor around to make sure I woke up and was ok and all that kind of shit?” I spat back.

She rolled her eyes at me, “No need for all the anger. Your wound is never going to fully heal no matter what that back alley buffoon told you. The blade that cut you cursed you, just like it cursed myself and Templeton.” She waved a hand to indicate the book-carrier.

“Cursed…what do you mean cursed?” 

Templeton brought the book over to me and held a page chock-full of letters up for my inspection. “It all makes sense if you just read the handbook.”

“I can’t read, and I don’t care about your handbooks and curses. Thanks for the… whatever this was but I’ve got to go back out there. Mallory Cauldwell needs me to do some things or I’ll never hear the end of it.” I had hoped Mallory’s name might ring a bell, spark some fear or admiration. It didn’t. I struggled to sit up again but this time hurt worse than the first.

“Frigga maybe you ought to just-“Templeton started to say

Frigga pressed the end of her cane to my chest and with a gentle push sent me back down, “Your illiteracy is an inconvenience but I’ll summarize for you. That knife tainted your blood and corrupted your soul. The thing, the beast that did this to you is just one of many. They’ve become more and more active as of late.”

Templeton pulled a few papers out of her guidebook. They all had crude drawings of monsters on them, people with faces like wolves and horribly contorted humped back with boils. There was a tiny scribble of something that resembled the dog Smoke-Eyes had with him. I tried to remember just what kind of dog it had been and if it really did look like the drawing or if it was just a coincidence.

“They take over whole towns at night and as their numbers grow so does their territory. They must’ve just started in your city; Templeton’s was overrun by the creatures.” Frigga continued. “The only way to stop them is to kill them and we’re uniquely suited to those purposes. Whatever taint they placed in us can only be sated by their blood. We have to hunt them and extract from what we kill or else we’re doomed to the same fate.”

“It’s really not all as dramatic as she makes it sound.” Templeton cut in.

“Look can’t I just leave the slaying and the glory to you guys. You seem to be good at it what the hell do you need me for? I won’t bother you, I’ll just stop by and pick up some of this spirit-blood and keep living my life.” 

“Frankly we don’t have enough Hunters to manage all of the beasts that keep popping up. You’re useful to us, or at least you will be at some point. The blood we have, we earn and you’ll do the same. It’s not an easy life but it’s really your only option.” Frigga replied.

“What did you do with Doc. Keller?” I asked desperate to steer the conversation away from myself and the strange fate these two wanted to proclaim was mine.

Templeton scratched the back of her neck, struggling for the right words“He sold you out to us.”

“What do you mean?” I asked

“Frigga’s made a deal with most of the doctors around and those doctors spread word to others…mainly street surgeons but probably some actual doctors too. If they suspect that the wounds you have might be caused by one of the beasts then they let us know. We give them some money they give us our guy.” Templeton explained.

I wasn’t surprised. Keller was definitely the type to do something like that. Street surgery wasn’t exactly the most profitable business. When all your clients were broke you tended to be broke too, and while I could appreciate that it wouldn’t stop me from kicking Keller’s ass the next time I saw him.

“I know it’s a lot to take in.” Templeton offered.

“You’ll have to learn quickly, night has nearly fallen.” Frigga said. She removed a syringe filled with what was presumably blood and handed it to Templeton. “We have to get moving.”

Templeton nodded and poked the needle into my arm. It was my first transfusion of the beasts’ blood, I expected it to feel like something but it was nothing more then the sting of the needle. I was hopeful, perhaps these two and Doc. Keller had mistaken me for something I was not.

“Come on you two.” Frigga said striding towards the door.

Though I had been bedridden just moments ago I found the strength to stand. Damn it all the blood did work. Templeton tucked her book away into a satchel and pulled a pistol from her hip. “Ever used one of these before?”

I shook my head and she sighed.

“I guess we’ll have to find something else for you.”

We followed Frigga through the stately house. I expected to see lords and ladies or a few servants at the very least but the whole place was abandoned. The scent of lavender wafted from a few other candles that lit the hallways in the dying day light, elongating the shadows of all of the furniture that we went past. We descended a sweeping staircase and Frigga cracked open the door. The chill of evening air blew in through the cracks as she scanned the street for any signs of danger. Satisfied that nothing was going to ambush us we crossed the threshold and exited the home.

“Follow behind me.” Frigga said, “Templeton you protect us from the rear.”

In that small little line we continued. It was a sickening feeling to be out in an unfamiliar street with unfamiliar people. Most of my livelihood was based on knowing just what alleys to duck into to make a quick escape. To not have my bearings was like cutting off part of my arm. I felt incomplete.

We had to be in a new city, this was no part of Uptown that I had ever seen. There were coffins on a few of the lawns that we passed, held shut with heavy iron chains. The further down the street we went the more of them we saw, and hereabout rusted copper cages with the doors flung open. Whenever the wind picked up swarms of black feathers would be lifted from the cobblestones and swirl about until the air abandoned them.

I spied a dislodged pole from one of the cages and figuring some weapon was better than none at all, picked it up and took it with me. Templeton gave me an encouraging nod.

Both of our attention was caught at the sound of Frigga’s cane clashing against the cobblestone. “We’d best hurry up.” Templeton said as we turned from the cage and resumed our line formation.

The enormous iron gates of the fence that ran around the manor houses had been pushed open and were held ajar by a stack of barrels. It was enough so that a person could just barely shimmy through the opening.

“Where are we going?” I asked

“The sewer.” Frigga replied.

“Bit late for toshing isn’t it?” I asked

She stopped, turned on her heel and raised and, eyebrow at me in question.

“Toshing? You know?” I repeated. My street terms landed on deaf ears, “It’s an occupation for us street kids, being a tosher that is. It means you hunt around in sewers for what’s fallen down there. It’s not usually much more than a few coins but every now and again someone or other comes across an engagement ring or a necklace or something. Can be very lucrative if you’ve got the eyes for it.”

“I assure you that strolling about in ankle deep sewage to find a bunch of useless coins is not high on my priority list.” Frigga replied coldly, “You can do whatever you like once we’ve-“

A gunshot reverberated from Templeton’s pistol and our ears rang, vibrating with monumental sound. 

“Bloody hell what do you think you’re-“

Before I could finish my sentence I was pushed to the ground by some beast. Enormous claws pressed my shoulders down into the cobblestones and a hooked beak tore at me. I looked up into the yellowed eyes and feathered face of some kind of crow demon.

There was another earsplitting gun shot from Templeton’s pistol and the great crow-beast let out a pained caw and turned towards the source of the shot. From behind the bird a fine chain shot out and wrapped itself around the bird’s neck. The links tightened and with a good yank it was pulled off me. Frigga was at the business end of the chain, which seemed to emanate from her dragon’s head cane. It was more then it appeared to be. She was reeling in the chain with all her strength. She hauled it closer, link by link, choking the enormous bird. Pulled back and trying to alleviate the tension on it’s throat .The bird’s claws loosened and I rolled away from it. Templeton finished it with a bullet through the eye.

“There’s bound to be more.” Frigga said giving her cane a practiced jerk, the fine chain slinking back to it’s hidden compartment. Templeton nodded and reloaded her pistol.

Without another word they jogged around the barrels and out the gate, I quickly followed scanning every shadow as we went for more of the crows. I’d never seen a bird so big in all my life.

We headed down the street at a decent clip before Frigga held her hand up and we all stopped. Once she knew she had out attention she pointed to a well in the middle of a roundabout a few feet from us. Pacing around it were two of the rotting dogs from the South End Church accompanied by a very hairy man with a flaming torch and crude wooden shield. 

Frigga dropped into a crouch and we all followed her lead, slowly creeping along the shadows of a low stone wall. I kept my eyes on the dogs and my hands gripped the metal pole tightly. The dogs sniffed the air, and I knew they were going to catch our scent. One of them barked which caused the man to turn his head. Frigga leapt at the hound, cracking her cane hard against its snout. The other dog charged at me. I swung my pole, catching it before it jumped on me. The dog was interrupted mid-leap and crashed into the stone base of the well. I didn’t know if the thing was stunned or dead. I didn’t stop to check.

Templeton seemed to be having a rough time. The hairy guy would rush her in the stomach with his shield. It took all the breath out of her. She had to regain it quickly, for soon the fiery torch would be swinging towards her. Templeton back stepped, often trying to get a shot in. The adversary always seemed to rush her just before she got a chance to reload. You could see she was winded, running out of steam. I lunged at him with my pole and caught him in the hand. He cursed at me and dropped his torch. Ignoring Templeton he turned and swung at me with the shield. I jumped back, away from him.

I hadn’t checked my surroundings all too carefully and came ankle to jaw with the hellhound I’d attacked before. It hadn’t been dead and now it’s teeth were trying to cut through my pants and shoes. It’s firm grim held me in place as the hairy guy advanced.

Frigga was a whirlwind. She’d dispatched of the first hell hound in seconds and then sprung over to our defense. She swept her fine chain in an arc, close to the ground knocking both her opponents’ feet out from under them. Templeton had regained all her senses and dispatched of the hound with another head shot, straight through the eye. Frigga, now using just her cane had slammed its point straight through the hairy guy.

“Let’s move.” She said wiping the grime from her weapon on her skirt. She broke into a brisk jog and we continued after her darting from building to building and shadow to shadow. 

The further we went the more I realized I needed to turn around, I needed to go back and warn Mallory. Surely these creatures were what had caused all of the disappearances and looking for them was only going to lead to certain death. I didn’t know how to pose this quandary to the people who had just saved my life twice over. No matter how I thought to phrase it, if I told them I needed to leave they would see me as a coward. I had been called a coward before, by many people and it never bothered me before but these two were different. I didn’t want to disappoint them so I just didn’t speak.

We continued and met no further disruptions before reaching the manhole cover to their sewer passage. The iron grate had been held up in one corner by a piece of wood, Templeton spread her legs for better stance before grabbing the cover by its edge. She hauled it upwards using all her strength and Frigga slipped below climbing down the rungs of a ladder on the side of the sewage chute. After she had gone down a few rungs Templeton nodded at me and I followed after.

The smell of the place was quite something but my nostrils were still clogged by the stink of the freshly slaughtered hell hounds. Templeton followed behind replacing the wood and closing the cover behind her. When we got down the ladder we continued on the more sure-footed stone walkways that ran along the sides of the sewer. Inches from us was a torrent of mud and waste that slogged along the sewage drain. Templeton took off her black hooded caplet and draped it over my shoulders.

“Wouldn’t want those scratches to get infected, crows are pretty nasty. Bird and sewer isn’t a good mix.” Templeton explained

“Thanks.” I replied adjusting the clasp so that it would stay put. The caplet was a little bit too small for me but it would keep my new wounds covered. We heard the crack of Frigga’s cane against the stones, synonymous with the command to hurry up. We picked up our pace by a half step and continued after her.

“So how many of you are there?” I asked.

“Our group, now including you numbers a mere dozen.” Frigga answered, “I know there are a few others spotted around our territory but their experienced Hunters who don’t tend to do well in a group environment. Their more effective if we just let them be.”

“Are there more groups?” I continued prying.

“Yes most certainly. We all are far too busy maintaining our own territories for much contact but there are groups that hold communion with others on Sundays. We’ve gone a few times but the churches are far and the danger is great, brotherhood with our fellow Hunters is important but keeping the city safe comes first.”

“We never have enough to leave behind so that others can go.” Templeton added, “But there are times when we have to attend. Every group has different struggles. Ours is just running low on hunters but in other places there aren’t half enough blood-letting monsters too keep them supplied and they go to communion to get more blood vials.”

“Well couldn’t we drain those hounds and that hairy bloke for blood?” I asked

Templeton nodded, “We could’ve if we wanted too but their blood doesn’t let much that is usable. Most of it is soiled and sour, if we really had a blood shortage we would, of course, not be too choosy about that but we’re well supplied.”

“We prefer to do real hunting for our blood.” Frigga said coldly.

Before I could continue asking my questions she stopped and pressed her hand against a divot in one of the bricks. The tunnel shivered and the bricks in the side of the wall fell away like a draw bridge revealing a secret doorway. We all hurried inside and the bricks snapped back into place behind us.

“That’s wicked cool.” I remarked.

We continued up a spiral staircase, the smell of sewage slowly becoming replaced by the smells of food cooking. The staircase ended and Frigga pushed up on a portion of the ceiling revealing a trap door. We went through it and finally arrived at the Hunter’s hideout.

It was an enormous space, overflowing with books. There were stacks of them on the floor and they were crammed onto shelves, the shelves that weren’t barricading the immediately visible exits. A library. They’d taken over an entire library. A chandelier full of candles shed light on the Hunter’s home, though only the lowest of the three tiers of candles was lit.

It was a glorious hideout, though perhaps not in its effectiveness at being hidden. I had no idea of its exterior appearance or location. It was no matter, the interior was glorious in its feeling and scale. Tables were neatly arranged towards the left, pushed and prodded together to form a long dining table. 

“Sleeping quarters are upstairs in the private study rooms, third floor is pretty rickety so we don’t go up there much but there’s some supplies up there.” Templeton said gesturing to the different areas as she spoke. “There’s a place for sparing practice under the staircase, we’ve also set up a kitchen and there’s a working bathroom on the second floor, the other ones are busted and we haven’t taken in any plumbers yet.”

“Frigga’s back!” A voice shouted from the second floor. A face popped out over the balcony railing for a few seconds then we all heard the pounding of feet as the same person rushed down the stairs.

Templeton blew air at a curl of hair that had fallen in her face. “Always has to interrupt my tours.” She muttered.

One by one they came into view navigating their way between the maze of bookshelves. I couldn’t see the staircase so they all seemed like spirits who would suddenly just materialize out of thin air. When each approached us they turned to Frigga and bowed to her. She would remove her cap and bow back. In all we were greeted by six.

“Who’s that?” One of them asked pointing an accusing finger at me.

“This is Sterling.” Templeton explained, “He’s a new Hunter, and he’s going to be part of our group now.”

“Hello.” I added 

Frigga turned and headed towards the dining table, the others followed her lead. She took a seat at the head of the table and we filled in the empty chairs nearest to her. The table, even with the nine of us seated around it was still largely empty and the other end was like the empty mouth of some huge monster waiting to swallow us. I tried to keep from looking at it.

Frigga cleared her throat and adjusted her vest, “Where are the last three Hunters of our pack?”

The one who’d yelled at me from the balcony spoke up. Now that he came into focus I could see that he had blonde hair which flopped down into his face and stuck out wing-like on the sides giving him the appearance of a somewhat disheveled blond goose. “They should be returning soon, since they left a little bit before you did but you know how Mouse is. Always so thorough. Barristan don’t have the heart to rush him either.”

“Yes well Barristan is old enough to know that getting back on time is more important then being thorough.” She retaliated.

“Aww c’mon Frigga, their Hunters, it’s literally in their blood to want to kill these things.” Goose-hair defended.

“Mouse is barely able to lift the axe he’s so in favor of and Barristan never remembers to check behind him. They could easily be ambushed.”

“Which is why I sent Anwen with them. “ Templeton cut in, “You’ve said it yourself nothings managed to sneak up on her yet. She’ll keep watch on both of them Frigga, you know she will.”

Frigga nodded and relaxed against the back of her chair.

My stomach let out a growl that resonated through the library and the Hunters chuckled. “Got anything to eat?” I asked sheepishly.

A muscular girl with a long red braid draped over one shoulder replied, “It’s kind of a custom with us Hunters to not start until the others have got back from the hunt. Dining without all your brothers and sisters is bad luck.”

“Oh.” I replied, “Sorry.”

“It’s ok.” She said with a smile, “It took me a really long time to get used to all of the customs and such. It’ll catch on. I’m Scarlett by the way.”

An obvious if not apt name. “Thanks.” 

“Oh are we doing introductions now?” Bird-hair began, “I’m Alfie.” He reached over and grabbed my hand giving me an enthusiastic handshake, “Welcome to the team!”

“Thanks but-“

Alfie ignored me completely and circled the table pointing out his other companions, a dark haired boy who wore necklaces and bracelets made out of teeth, a girl with cinnamon colored skin and dark curly hair who reminded me of Mallory and a set of twins. When he finally stopped to take a breath I cut in.

“ It’s been very nice meeting you and thank you for saving my life. All the same I can’t stay. I’ve got to warn this person back in my town. She’s looking into these disappearances and I’m pretty sure the beasts you’re killing are the reason for it. If she keeps looking they’ll kill her.” I explained, trying my best to be civil.

“You can’t go back Sterling.” Scarlett said softly, “None of us can, it’s in the rules.”

“Rules be damned why are they so important all of a sudden? You all are fighters surely you can do what you want and go where you like.” I was all but slamming my fists on the table trying to illustrate my point.

“It’s..hard to explain.” Scarlett said, “But all Hunters from the moment they get the taint have to abide by a code of honor. We’re not the kind to do it but there’s a whole squadron of Hunters who go around and pick off the deserters. Knowledge of our hideouts and customs has to be kept secret. Following a kind of code like this, well it’s one of the things that keeps hunters from becoming as bad as beasts”

“Plus the whole city is crawling with beasts you’d never make it out alive.” Templeton said, “We’ve seen you fight.”

I wanted to be angry at her and I do admit I did feel a bit insulted but in the end she was telling the truth. I would not be able to handle those creatures on my own.

“And you still need to take blood.” Alfie added.

They all nodded.

They told the truth but so did I. Mallory needed to know. 

Frigga noted my hesitation and offered a solution, “ We’ll have you send a letter. Templeton can help you write it and we’ll find a messenger to take it for you. Perhaps one day when you’re strong enough and you’re able to kill beasts as well as we are you can go back to your town and join whatever group of hunters is sent there but for now we need your focus and loyalty to lie with us. This is the last contact I’ll allow you to have with your past. You need to put it out of you mind and focus on the task at hand.”

“We all had to do it.” Alfie said, “Its easier being a Hunter once you’ve forgotten a thing or two.”

He had intended these words to be comforting but nothing could’ve put me more on edge. I wished that the crow demon or the dogs had ripped me apart. Whatever life these hunters had I didn’t want; it seemed I didn’t have a choice. There was no turning back.


	3. Chapter The Third: In Which We Get a Lay of the Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sterling meets the gang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and in which i change my chapter naming style. Oh well.

Upstairs was inviting, in a slipshod sort of way. The Hunters had all taken private study rooms for their own living spaces. The doors of theses rooms were decorated with bits and bobs pasted or tacked on by their occupants. The shelves on the second floor were hardly disturbed at all, save for four which had been used to square off a small area with a chalkboard and drafting table. I assumed this to be the place most attacks were planned out. There was a wall not too far from the area which was covered with large maps. I stared at them, trying to find something I recognized. 

I heard heavy footfalls behind me and turned to see Anwen coming up the staircase. Her armor clanked and creaked as she climbed, the enormous hammer stills tapped across her back. The weapon would jostle against her pauldron adding to the din. 

She greeted me with a nod. 

“Which one’s mine?” I asked indicating the study rooms. I hadn’t wanted to go poking around inside them and disturb the other Hunter’s things. 

“There’s an empty one next to Cato’s if you’d like to be close to everyone.” Anwen said, “But there’s a whole block further back, should you want your space.” 

She pointed off, deeper into the library’s second floor. 

“Thanks.” I replied. 

She nodded again, the turned for her own room. She closed her door behind her and I heard a thud as Anwen removed the hammer from her shoulders. I thought I could feel the ground shake. 

I followed her directions, passing the drafting table and old library circulation desk. Behind the circulation desk in the space very farthest from the stairs was the old librarian’s office which appeared to be Frigga’s quarters. There were plenty of study rooms in between the circulation desk and the space set aside for strategy. I chose one of these. 

Stepping inside I found a sconce with an unlit candle. I promptly ignited it, borrowing from one of the candles outside. There was a small desk with a large book, presumably a copy of the aforementioned Hunter’s Handbook. A wooden chair was pushed in at the desk and there was a hammock strung up along the back wall. Some clothing pegs and shelves were on the wall opposite the desk. Everything was small and shoved together, there wasn’t much space for standing when you got right down to it, but it had been a long time since I’d had a space to myself. The study room would suit me just fine. 

I exited my new living quarters and looked down from the railing onto the Hunters rolling dice below. I could see Templeton, a few paces away from the others. She was writing, in an angry sort of way. She kept shaking her head, scratching out sentences and tossing ball of parchment into a waste basket. I guess organizing the hunting parties was proving a troublesome task. 

From my bird’s eye view I could now locate the kitchen which had been organized around a large fireplace. Some pipes had been stuck together in a strange but seemingly secure fashion. They connected to a sink, no doubt hacked out of one of the bathrooms. The strange plumbing apparatus stood to one side of the fire. On the opposite side was a table, a bookcase and some barrels that were used for food preparation and storage. Barristan and Scarlett were washing up from dinner. They shouted over the splashing and sputtering water to Imogen’s gang of game players. 

I was so engrossed in watching the scene from above that I didn’t hear the twins creeping up behind me. Sage greeted me. I turned around so fast I lost my balance and almost fell of the balcony. My heart was pounding. 

“Sorry we snuck up on you.” Salem said. “It was Sage’s idea.” 

“Snitch.” Sage mumbled. 

“It’s…Its fine. Just, please don’t do it again.” I implored. 

“No promises.” Sage returned, with a sly grin. 

“Frigga sent us up to find you.” Salem said, changing the subject lest her brother levy more threats, “She thought you might like some new clothes and a chance to try out some trick weapons. You’ll need both for tomorrow’s hunt.” 

“Yeah about that.” I began, “I don’t know if like…I have the proper kind of experience yet to go encounter those creatures voluntarily, you know? I think I might just sit this one until I’m actually half-decent at fighting things. I really don’t want to die.” 

“Well you’re never going to get better if you don’t practice on real beasts.” Sage countered, “And it’s not like you’ll be out there alone. A Hunter is never alone.” 

“We always go in threes, that is when we have the numbers for it.” Salem added. She took me by the hand, “Now follow us.” 

They led me back down and under the great staircase. Hanging for the stairs was a rat’s nest of rope and leather straps. Suspended in the tangles were a few dozen weapons. There were several varieties of canes, though none with the dragon’s head Frigga’s boasted. I wondered if it was her own modification. Beyond canes there were different sized swords and axes, and a few hammers. There were even some weapons I couldn’t put names too, things made of bones and iron with serrated edges. Salem informed me they were called saw cleavers. 

The twins by-passed the weapons, promising we’d return later. They led me to a closet door. Inside were shelves with stacks of neatly folded clothes. They began to pull out the piles for my inspection. A lot of the outfits they handed me had cloaks or capes, all of which I declined. Capes had a reputation for snagging on things at the worst of times. They tried to get me to take a cloak constructed entirely out of crows’ feathers, but I refused. How anyone could stand to fight in what must’ve been the itchiest conceivable attire was beyond me. What I settled on were dark trousers and a red vest with a black overcoat. I was very excited to receive, for the first time in my life, a pair of good sturdy boots. They were made of dark brown leather and laced up to just below the knees. 

Hats were tested and tried, they had an enormous variety. I had a difficult time understanding how they’d manage to pack everything into the closet so nearly, when spread out before us it was a giant mess. Top hat, bowler, bonnet, even one of the tricorn hats with the tattered ears like Frigga wore; none of these suited me according to the twins. I’d never been able to keep track of a hat to begin with. Once they were informed of this, they traded out my overcoat for a longer one that came with a hood, surmising it would do in place of a hat. 

Deciding on a weapon was a much quicker process, owing to the fact that most of them were too heavy for me to lift. The swords and hammers were too bulky by far. Canes were out too, no matter how many times I cracked one forward I couldn’t get the chain to spit out as it was supposed to. I had some luck with the saw cleaver, but it was still a bit heavier then I’d like. We found the most luck with axes. The wooden handles were light and reduced the overall weight of the weapons. Sage urged me to practice with both axe and cleaver. They unstrung one of each from the overhead storage, and placed them in my possession. 

Salem also gave me a pistol and a pouch of silver bullets. “You’ll learn on the job.” She assured me. 

Her brother produced a shriveled bat’s wing on a string from his pocket. He tied it around the handle of my new axe, just a little ways above the leather wrapped grip. “For luck.” He explained, though I couldn’t fathom how the decaying wing would be of any use. 

“You ought to get started training.” Salem advised. 

“I think I’m just going to go to bed. It’s pretty late.” I said awkwardly hoisting a weapon across either shoulder. 

“Hunters are nocturnal.” They said in unison, but I was already trudging back up the stairs. Things would take some getting used to, that was for certain. At the moment I could care less about adjusting, all I wanted was to slip away and relax for a few moments. 

I set the pistol down on my new desk, along with the pouch of bullets. I leaned the axe and the cleaver up against the doorframe and hung my new coat on a peg. I had kept my old outfit, despite the twins’ assurance it was no longer necessary. They said there were all sorts of spells, charms and hexes on the new clothes which would protect me against the beasts. I had no need for a spelled sleep, so I chose to lay down; wearing familiar clothes in unfamiliar surroundings. I let the exhaustion and relief crash down over me. 

It was beautiful. 

I was back sleeping on the porch of the boarding house across from the bakers’ in early spring. That’s where I was and I believed this to the fullest extent. 

Until I opened my eyes. I felt like a coin dropped in a well; spiraling out of control and desperately trying to get a grip on where I was and what was happening to me. 

Until I realized. 

The coin hits the bottom of the well and it knows. You open your eyes and you know, and it’s never where you want to be. 

With some difficult I shifted to a seated position in my new hammock. I rubbed the sleep sand out of my eyes and changed into my Hunter’s clothes. I opened the door to a silent library. The great fireplace was not crackling and there were no sounds of laughter or cursing as before. The only light came in through gaps in the boarded up doors and windows. They’d been closed up pretty good, there was hardly any visibility. All the same I could tell it was well into the day by the brightness of what did manage to leak through. 

I left my room, taking the candle from the sconce with me. I could hear snoring coming from some of the rooms, reassurance that my new companions were neither dead nor imagined. This was all really happening. I peered over the balcony, onto the lower floor but could find no signs of life. 

I felt like a thief, not that I wasn’t, but it was strange creeping around a new place when everyone was asleep. The library’s floorboards would creak every few steps. The sound made me cringe. It felt wrong to be awake. It felt forbidden. I slunk down every stupidly creaky stair in the staircase. 

When I finally got all the way to the bottom, I nearly dropped my candle in surprise. Mouse’s big brown eyes were looking up at me. He was seated on the bottom step. Before I cursed in expression of my surprise, Mouse plied me with a question. 

“What are you doing awake?” 

“I could ask the same of you.” I quipped. 

“Oh Frigga put me on guard duty’s all.” Mouse replied. “I’m s’pose to sit by the trap door but it gets too cold without the big fire goin’.” 

“Why don’t we just start up the fire then?” I asked. 

“Some of the denizens wake up real early and we tend to not want them coming around here. They aren’t beasts but their curiosity can be just as dangerous, least that’s what Anwen told me n’ she’s real smart.” 

“I guess bacon for breakfast is out of the question then.” I muttered. 

“You excited for the hunt?” Mouse asked. 

“Uhh..sure.” I lied, “Has Templeton decided what team everyone is on yet?” 

Mouse nodded, “I actually get to go out and slay this time, she put someone else on the lamplighter team which is not usual. I think Templeton is a little miffed at Frigga being as how she sometimes throws stuff on ‘er last minute, so the groups is real shook up.” 

“Who are you going with?” I asked concerned for Mouse’s safety. There’s no way someone so small could honestly hold their own against a flock of crows or a pack of hellhounds, let alone whatever a great beast was. 

“I got Anwen with me like always but instead of Barristan I’m with Imogen now.” 

“Girl with the dice?” I asked 

“That’s her.” Mouse nodded, “She usually is up on the rooftops with a crossbow keepin’ the streets clean so it’s odd she’s out for slayin’ too. She’s real good at it though, knows how to use fire and lighting arrows and stuff so we shouldn’t have too much trouble. You got a real interesting little group too.” 

“Oh yeah, who’d I get saddled with?” 

Mouse chuckled, “Saddles are for horses.” 

“It’s just an expression.” I explained, chuckling myself. 

“Oh.” Mouse paused, “Well anyways you’re gonna be with Frigga and Cato. That’s a great team though Cato ain’t really exactly the most fun to hang around.” 

“Kid with the teeth?” I asked. 

“Yeah, he thinks I’m too little to hunt n’ can get all huffy ‘bout it.” He replied, “But all ‘is teeth are from things he’s killed and he’s got real experience and stuff. Barristan found ‘im one night hunting in Old Yarnham- which is completely overrun by stuff. Cato was there tryin’ to chop off a Greatwolf’s head with a giant wagon wheel.” 

“Bet that didn’t go too well.” I commented 

Mouse shook his head, “I mean the beast was all dead n’ stuff but the head just kinda got all goopy. ‘Ere he was though killin’ things with no proper weapon. Old Yarnaham’s a wasteland Sterling, nobody was ‘posed to be livin’ there. Barristan took one look at him and knew he was meant to be a Hunter like us. Frigga wanted to turn him down considerin’ Cato wasn’t cut with blood yet, he hadn’t gotten touched or bit or nothin’ by some merit o’ skill but Cato wasn’t taking know for an answer so he just went out and lookin’ like Frigga dead in the eyes as she was tryin’ to escort him to this safehouse he stuck ‘is arm out to a caged hellhound and the thing all but tore it off practically. When ‘e pulled it out there was a rotted tooth in there and then Frigga didn’t have no choice.” 

“Can’t believe someone would volunteer for this.” I muttered. 

Mouse went right on through his story without stopping to respond, “Took ‘im a long time to settle on a weapon too; Kirkhammer we thought for sure but it didn’t take. Threaded cane wasn’t heavy enough for ‘im and he didn’t like axes for some reason or other. He went at things with a saw cleaver for a while before he just made somethin’ himself. Calls it a Whirligig Saw which don’t sound like a proper weapon if ya ask me.” 

“What’s it do?” I asked 

“Oh you’ll see for yourself, ya gotta see that thing in action.” Mouse said, “It’s somethin’.” 

We sat there in darkness and silence for a while. I wanted to ask Mouse where he’d come from but after hearing about Cato’s past I really didn’t want to have to picture little Mouse beating something to death with the nearest weapon. 

Mouse pulled out a package of crackers wrapped in brown paper from his pocket. They were slightly crushed but we each ate a few. Time passed and I felt Mouses’ head go heavy against my shoulder. I was just about to jostle him awake when Scarlett tapped me on the shoulder. I almost jumped right out of my skin, I hadn’t heard her approach not even in the complete silence that had overtaken the library. Silence dark and thick. Silence like syrup. 

“I’m next watch.” She said sitting down next to me. “Why don’t you take Mouse up to bed?” 

“I don’t know which one is his.” I replied. 

Scarlett laughed, “It’s the first one on the block to the right of the stairs. You can’t miss it, it’s filled with all kinds of toys and crap.” 

I scooped up Mouse, such a slight little thing and carried him up to his room. He had a small little bed in one corner and toys and junk everywhere else. His axe, the small sort was haphazardly sticking out from under his bed and I almost cut my foot open on it. I shoved a few of the miscellaneous objects piled on his bed aside and set the slumbering lump of a child down. 

Looking at him must have made me feel sleepy as well, I thought that I was heading back down the stairs to sit with Scarlett but the next thing I knew Templeton was shaking me awake from one of the library tables I had conked out on. 

“Wake up Sterling, we’ve got to get ready for the hunt.” 

I followed her down the stairs where a few were already seated around the large dining table. They’d all brought their weapons with them and many were polishing them with oilcloths or sharpening them with whetstones. This was when I saw Cato’s Whirlygig for the first time. It looked kind of like a flower, in a way, round bit at the end of a long stem, except that instead of petals there were three serrated circular saw blades. Mouse had been right, it was quite something. 

“Forget something?” Alfie asked when I sat down next to him. 

“Huh?” I asked blearily. 

Alfie set my new axe down on the table, “Templeton told me to grab it for you. Said that you had just passed out at one of the tables.” 

“Yeah..I’m not used to being nocturnal…and you know…it’s weird..” 

“The blood helps you adjust.” Alfie said, “You’ll be plenty ready for tonight just make sure you shoot up before stepping out. You can ask Barristan for blood he keeps the rations and stuff.” 

“Thanks.” I said grabbing the handle of my axe and pulling it in closer to me. 

“No problem.” Alfie said with a wide grin. 

Sage and Salem walked around the table passing coffees out to people. Salem laid a hand on my shoulder and set a steaming mug in front of me. “May the good blood guide your way.” 

“Uhh… same to you.” I said back but she had already moved on to the next seat. 

We all came to and munched on big slices of bread with eggs balanced on top. Templeton rattled off the names of the hunters and the groups they were going out with. I turned to look down the table and saw Frigga perched at the head of the table, fingers drumming on the worn wood. Was she annoyed or impatient? 

“Newbies on my team?” Cato said looking up from his Whirligig when Templeton had reached us. 

Templeton gave a brisk nod and opened her mouth to continue but was cut off by a sound that was equal parts crow caw and wolf howl. It emanated from Cato’s mouth, he released it triumphant pumping a fist in the air. 

“Been a long time since they let me hunt with fresh blood!” He pulled a flask from his pocket and tipped something into his own coffee and then into mine. He clashed his cup against mine with vigor and slurped down the contents, belched and then caw-howled again. He then returned to his Whirligig as though he hadn’t spoken at all. 

Once Templeton was done Frigga stood. She stepped up onto the dining table, it wobbled slightly but she took no note and strode elegantly down the middle of the table. 

“It’s been awhile since we had a proper hunt.” She began, “but our ranks grew last night and now we can spill blood and clean the streets as we were meant too. I want you to be fearless when you take to your posts, weapons sharp and eyes wide open. I don’t want a single one of you to back down, there will be Greatbeasts about. I’ve heard that there is a Cleric Beast in our town and when one cleric goes so do the rest. There are greatwolves and their multiplying. We will cut them down to a beast.” 

Here the other Hunters let out a great cheer. Frigga smiled and then stamped her boot down on the table for silence. All of the wood wobbled. 

“My hunters we will turn the streets red and collect their life force for our brethren. That which seeks to destroy us we will use to keep us alive. The night cuts deep but we cut deeper!” 

The Hunters all began shouting again, banging their mugs on the table. A small violent part of me screamed to my soul to join but I stuck to observing. Frigga didn’t silence them this time, she shouted over them. “May the good blood guide your way!” 

They echoed it back to her “May the good blood guide your way!” 

A few of the groups left, hooting and howling, shimmying and sliding their way through the trapdoor. Scarlett and the twins hung back as did my team. Everyone else had vanished. 

“Nice speech.” I said to Frigga. 

“Thank you.” She replied coolly, “Are you ready for your first hunt?” 

I wasn’t, but I nodded in the affirmative anyway. 

“Good.” She said, “I’m not about to let them get all the glory.” 

Frigga yanked open the trap door and slid down the ladder. 

I grabbed my axe off the table and followed after her. Cato took the rear, Whirligig Saw sending up sparks where it scraped the wall behind him. 

“Where’s our stomping ground tonight majesty?” Cato asked. His words came out in ravenous panting gulps as though someone were making him wait until they were done saying grace before he could eat his meal. 

“Anwen said that there was trouble on the bridge the other night, and if I had to guess it’s because of the Church of Yharnam at the end of it. If there’s cleric beasts to be had they’ll be in there. That gentlemen, is where we are headed tonight.” Frigga announced. 

“Sorry to interrupt, “I began, figuring this could be the start of another speech, “But what the hell is a cleric beast?” 

“Oh there these great big tall things, furry, usually greyish-silver in color, like an old man’s beard. Their about three stories tall, size of your standard buildings I’d guess. See the clerics, at least the ones who practice in Yharnam hadn’t got the knack for blood healing just right. It’s not exactly easy to share cure recipes when everything is all trying to kill you. By the time we got our Templeton to distill things for us, well most churches had been barricaded up.” Cato explained as we trudged through the murky sewer water. 

We continued past the bodies of enormous rats with eyes the size of dinner plates. They lay dead in pools of their own blood, no doubt killed by the groups that had gone ahead of us. 

“Did you say they were as big as buildings?” I asked hoping I had misheard him. 

“Yeah I mean they got those big high ceilings in the Church of Yharnam so it’s not really too much problem for them.” Cato clarified, “Their just clerics whose blood went bad.” 

With each step, every small advance into the night Cato became more lively. Frigga walked with her shoulders square, her countenance somehow more regal than before. I felt stupid lagging behind them, struggling to keep up and carry my axe at the same time. The blade kept getting snagged on stones or dragging in the sewer water. 

When we came out through the grate I was surprised to find it wasn’t the dead of night. The sky was in sunset, a bright orange, as though it had been set on fire. The streets were full of people, real people not beasts. There were carts set up with vendors hawking everything from meat pies to horseshoes. 

“Guess we’re a bit early.” I said. 

Frigga removed a bell from a pocket on her vest and rang it, cold and clear above the din of the marketplace. Somewhere in the distance another bell echoed ours, and further off another returned that and so on and so forth. It was like someone had hit a switch, people who had spent a half hour haggling over the price of apples were now helping each other to pack up their wares. If you blinked you could’ve missed it. In seconds the square was cleared, devoid of all signs of life. 

“Guess not.” I said. 

“All Hunters use bells. You’ll get yours at communion.” Frigga informed before setting off at a pace just as brisk if not brisker than before. We continued down the street in a direction opposite the houses from whence we’d first come. We heard the occasional snap of a door closing in one of the houses that lined the street, or the click of a lock or bolt as it slid into place. A few of the houses had lanterns outside of them, with red glass in the panes. They blazed and reflected the smoldering sky. The whole world looked aflame tonight. 

We reached the bridge just as the orange above was starting to surrender to a deep navy. Cato took a seat on the railing of the bridge, twisting around to spit over the side. We were too far up to hear the splash, the great bridge towered above the rest of Yharnam. At the far end of the bridge loomed the Church; its steeples stretching out to stab the sky. Statues lined the bridge at regular intervals, their stone arms open and filled with flickering candles. Frigga stopped to pick up one of the ones that still burned, and brought a few of its spent brothers back to life. I followed her lead as Cato kept watch.


	4. Chapter the Fourth: In Which we Go Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sterlings first hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear from my readers!

The orange sky finally succumbed to black. The candles’ glow illuminated the three of us and our small section of bridge. The moon was high and full, lending its otherworldly light to our eyes. Things were not so dark as I had feared them. 

“Get ready.” Frigga said setting the candle back in its holder and taking a good grip on her Threaded Cane. 

“I was born ready.” 

We stood there weapons drawn and let the night air bite at us. I smelled them before I saw them, a rancid smell of death just like the hellhounds. Then the shadows shifted and an enormous elongated paw appeared on the railing opposite us. The paw alone was about the size of a small child and it was joined shortly thereafter by its twin, and then a bony black-furred shoulder and finally its snarling snout and head. Once it had its bearing it vaulted the wall and there was my first Greatwolf. 

The beast was the size of a stagecoach all told but I didn’t really have time for much in the way of size comparison because the next thing I knew the wolf leapt right at me. 

Frigga and Cato moved just as quick, Frigga’s fine chain snaking out and swirling around the muzzle of the great beast; tightly winding itself around the its jaws and clamping them closed before they had a chance to get their purchase in me. Cato’s circular blades red-hot as they made contact with the foreleg of the Great wolf spraying up fur and flesh. 

Frigga gave her chain a tremendous yank and the beast’s head snapped towards her. 

“Oi! Don’t stand there like a statue slice the thing!” Cato hollered. 

The Greatwolf dug into the grit between the cobblestones with its claws and tried to fight Frigga’s hold on its snout; wrenching its head back and forth. 

Startled into action, I swiped at its exposed neck with my new axe. Dark red blood spurted from the contact point. The wolf tore itself free from Frigga,flinging her further down the bridge. I turned to see her neatly catch herself on her feet and charge back towards us without missing a beat. 

“Look out!” She shouted seconds before I was flung into one of the statues by the great beasts’ paw. It raised its head in triumph and let out a howl. Nothing more escaped its throat before Cato’s weapon connected with the cut I made earlier and he let the machine loose. Blood and fur and viscera flew from the spot and the wolf’s great exhale of breath was stopped short. Drained of life, its weight was suddenly all askew and it thin limbs, unable to support it. The beast lay dead on the cobblestones, blood pooling out around it. 

Cato worked quickly; he inserted a tube that branched out into two separate channels at one end, like a doctor’s stethoscope into the wound. The single end went inside and the branches connected to two empty glass vials. They were quickly filled with the beasts’ blood. 

“One down.” Cato said capping each vile and then giving me a hearty pat on the back. “Lots to go.” 

Frigga took center point and we continued down the bridge. Occasionally we would pause and she’d tell us to light some of the candles. You could see our progress illuminated behind us. 

“Get down!” Frigga shouted. 

Crows swooped down on us and I rolled to my left just barely in time to escape the beak. Strong talons planted firmly on either side of me and I braced my axe’s handle with both hands cramming it into the crow’s beak as it tried to tear me apart. Frigga bashed it’s head into a pulp with the handle end of her cane seconds later. 

“Shake it off kid.” She said and pushed me towards another crow. 

It cawed and leapt at me and I swept at it with all my strength. My axe connected with its wing and caught for a second before getting its hold. It lodged itself there and the bird took off in a half grounded flight dragging me and my axe along with it as though it were some sort of morbid runaway kite. I collided with Cato and knocked the wind right out of him. 

“Sorry!” I called over my shoulder as the bird jumped and struggled clawing its way towards the sky as I tried to dig my heels in and keep it grounded; I was pulled along no matter my efforts. I looked over my shoulder with just enough time to see two ravens fling themselves on top of Cato taking advantage of the poor position he’d landed in. 

I was sure the crazed crow was going to drag me right over the side of the bridge, that’s right where we were headed. I’m sure I would’ve ended up a smashed mess on the pavement somewhere far far below, or perhaps have crashed through a shoddily made roof and terrified an unsuspecting family taking shelter from the nights’ horrors. It all might have been, but it didn’t happen that way because just as the crow was about to dive down into the darkness the shadows shifted and the birds head was crushed in the jaws of an unrestrained Greatwolf. 

“SHIT!” I shouted wrenching my axe easily out from the deceased bird’s limp wing. 

The wolf leapt at me and I dived between its leg sliding across crow’s blood and slick black feathers. I hefted the axe above my head and brought it down at the base of the wolf’s tail; feeling it slice through the different layers that make up these enormous animals then come out the other side. The severed tail fell useless to the street and the wolf let out a yelp of pain then spun towards me. Its eyes glowed with purpley-white smoke and saliva dripped from its mouth between each of its enormous fangs. 

“Shit shit shit shit.” I repeated the curse like a mantra and backed up as it licked its lips and paced carefully closer to me. I swept my axe to and fro wildly in an attempt to get it to keep its distance. Still the wolf advanced pushing me back until I was pressed against the stone railing yet again. Desperate to have some advantage, I hauled the nearest candle from its holder and flung it in the wolf’s ugly face. The flame extinguished itself mid-flight and bounced off the snout of the beast harmlessly. It didn’t do anything but make the mutt extra angry at yours truly. 

I was seriously considering whether being splashed across the pavement or torn apart in the jaws of the wolf was the more painful way to go w,hen Frigga came flying up over the wolf like some kind of savior sent from the heavens. 

She and Cato had managed to bounce back from the crows pretty quickly and she’d used his shoulder as a springboard to come to my aid. The sharp point of her Threaded Cane glinted in the moonlight before she touched down slamming the weapon into the Greatwolf’s skull, and giving it a twist no doubt having made herself a beeline straight for its brain. In that one flick of the wrist the great monster had expired and my life was saved yet again. 

“You make an excellent diversion.” She said paying me a rather odd compliment. 

“Yeah thanks.” I said rubbing my hand against the back of my neck awkwardly. “Totally meant to do that and all you know lure that thing to me and stuff.” 

She made no indication that she’d heard me but instead turned her attention to Cato. 

“Ignore this one, seems it’s consuming a lot of crows’ flesh and it might taint the blood. We don’t have to take anything spoiled just yet.” 

He nodded and we continued. The grip I kept on my weapon was white-knuckle tight and I checked every shadow twice suspicious of them all including my own. My heart was pounding so wild and fast I was sure it was going to dislodge itself from my chest before too much longer. 

“I think the newbie needs another injection, Majesty.” Cato said when we had gone a few feet further without attack, “He’s so pale the moonlight looks dark.” 

“He has only had the one dose.” Frigga consented. 

“Fresh blood is the best blood.” Cato said with a grin removing the vials he had collected earlier. 

He rolled my sleeve up and gave me another injection faster then I’d ever seen anyone perform any task before. He shot me up with half a vial and winked before slipping the rest into his pocket. I had no doubt he’d just poked the other end of the needle through the fabric of his pants and shot up with the rest. 

My eyes widened and I could swear my vision had improved. The shifting shadows were so much clearer now and I could see that there were just a few crows standing between us and the entrance to the church. An odd sense of strength pulse through me, my axe didn’t feel so heavy anymore and keeping up with Cato and Frigga wasn’t such a strain. I was the first to reach the new flock of crows, somehow or other I had ended up taking point. There were three crows one for each of us and before the one directly in front of me had a chance to let out even the slightest of caws I swung my axe back far over my shoulder and brought it crashing down into the bird’s head, killing one of these beasts, for the first time, on purpose. 

We had no further disturbances until we reached the enormous wooden door of the Church of Yharnam. I pushed the doors inward but my strength alone was not enough to budge the formidable door. Cato came up next to me and helped me shove until we had it cracked open enough to slip through. Frigga and Cato lit lamps attached to belts at their hips. Frigga handed one to me and I did the same. We were three small orange-yellow dots in a world of darkness. With the limited illumination I could see that an enormous incense burner had been wrenched from its place on the ceiling and lay mangled on the floor. I could hear the sound of something enormous shifting in the darkness. 

Frigga waved her hand at us to get our attention then put a finger to her lips and gestured for us to follow her. We clung to the wall and inched along, rough stone bricks scratching at our fingertips. Frigga’s cane swung out suddenly, nearly slamming me straight in the gut. We came to a sudden stop. 

That’s when I saw it. 

I could only assume that this was a cleric beast, it was the largest animal I’d ever seen. It was just a strange shape but the limited light from our lanterns were enough to make out its silhouette. It had antlers of some kind, huge and wide more like a moose’s then a deer’s. Long matted tendrils of fur came off its arms and back. I couldn’t be certain but it looked like its ribs were sticking out of its body, hardened bone contrasting sharply with the wiry fur. 

Frigga removed some pebbles from her pocket and drew her arm back before flinging it forward the rocks flying over the head of the great beast and clattering off in the distance. The cleric beast lunged in that direction. 

“Molotov.” Frigga said. 

With practiced movements, Cato lit a kerosene soaked rag lodged in a bottle from the lamp at his hip and hurled it in the direction the cleric beast had bounded off in. The whoosh of flame engulfed the room and even from a decent distance we all felt the heat of it. 

The cleric beast let out a screech as its fur caught fire. It flopped onto its back and thrashed about. The flame from its fur took to some of the velvet hangings that hung from the upper balconies of the church. Now that we had some light to see by I could tell we were in trouble, at the front of the church by the altar was another cleric beast. This one was curled up as though it had been asleep initially but the screams from the first beast had caused it to stir. 

“Take the first one out now! Hurry!” Frigga said and we leapt into action. The fire on the beasts’ fur had dissipated but the church wasn’t holding up so well. 

The beast swiped at us with a huge paw, enormous black claws enclosing on us like cage bars. Frigga and Cato rolled out of the way but I was snatched up by the giant paw. I rammed the spiked end of my axes’ pole into the paw pad. It howled and slammed me down to the ground, pushing the point deeper in and knocking all of the air out of me. 

The impact of my entire body on the unforgiving stone floor of the church was incredibly painful. 

Cato’s whirligig saw came to my rescue yet again; a strong swing sent it smashing into the beast’s paw. It swiped at Cato with its free paw. Frigga rolled into the opening and stabbed her threaded cane at its soft underbelly. The cleric beast used one of its back feet to swipe Frigga out of the way. She had seen this coming and dodged to deliver a stab to its footpad. 

This threw the beast off balance and it lifted the paw that had me trapped. Cato hauled me out by my shoulder the instant its grip loosened. 

“Stay on the smaller arm’s side, I’ve got this one!” Cato shouted to me and pushed me in the right direction. 

Once he pointed out I couldn’t imagine how I hadn’t noticed it before. One of the beast’s arms was significantly bigger and had a much longer reach then the other. It seemed to carry all of the muscle and attack power the creature had within it. 

It didn’t take long for the beast to get its footing back. It tried to punch at Cato, making its forepaw into a fist. Cato braced against it with his saw. The buzzing blades tore flesh from bone. The beast wasn’t giving up; it shoved all of its weight against Cato and let out an anguished cry. 

It may have had big arms but its underbelly was largely unprotected, I thought for sure Frigga was going to be able to deliver more attacks but when I looked around for her she was nowhere to be found. The beast swept myself and Cato aside. He lost his grip on the saw. It spun across the room. He regained his bearings and ran for it, the beast hot on his heels. 

“Cato look out!” I shouted. 

I doubted he could hear me over the enraged screams from the cleric beast. With all the rolling around quite a few things had been knocked about. I notice a pew slanted against one of the archways that supported the upper balconies. I scrambled to the top of it and shrunk my axe down to its smaller size. I hurled the thing over my head with both hands and it went flying through the air before embedding itself in the great creature’s shoulder. The beast howled and went down hard. 

Cato slid the rest of the way to his Whirligig Saw and slammed the blades into the Cleric beasts head again and again. The sound of the serrated teeth banging against bone was nauseating. 

All of our commotion had roused the second beast. This one grabbed Cato away from the first and threw him backwards towards the altar. Cato went sailing through the air. The teeth he wore jangled when he made contact with the altar, smashing it to pieces. 

Both beasts turned to me. 

They swept at me with their enormous claws pushing me back. Their eyes burned with hate, as I continued to retreat, but I knew I was running out of space. I felt my back press up against the wall. I grabbed a bible from a nearby pile and threw it at the second cleric beast but it bounced off harmlessly. They had closed the distance and all the bibles in the world wouldn’t make a lick of difference. 

I had thrown another volume because giving up was still kind of a coward’s thing to do even in the face of certain death. I’d lied, cheated, and stolen but I did in general try to avoid cowardice. No one could really blame a person for being killed by a pair of giant monsters bigger than most houses, could they? 

As I was trying to rationalize this to be a noble death, I suddenly found myself rescued. 

Frigga came flying through the air. She’d been climbing up to the upper balcony all this time. Her chain was hooked around the antler of the first cleric beast. Frigga leapt onto the beasts back. She came down hard on it’s shoulder and it howled, rearing up. She kicked at my axe, which had lodged itself in the creatures flesh. It clattered to the floor, and she was on the move again. 

Frigga leapt off the beast, grabbing for a sconce with one hand. She kept the other on her chain, maintaining its hold on the cleric beast’s antler. She only stayed at the sconce for a moment, before gripping her weapon in both hands and pushing off from the wall. She swung from one side of the church to the other, trailing the chain behind her. Again she paused for a mere second before taking off again, leaping to the back of the second beast. Her chain had made a full circuit around Frigga’s prey; the first cleric beasts neck was collared by it. She pulled at the chains with all her strength. 

The first beast tried to scream as its air was expiring. 

“Sterling!” Frigga shouted jolting me back into action seconds before the unhindered beast swept at me. I lunged for my axe and was relieved to feel the handle again in my hands. 

Frigga dug her feet in as the first beast thrashed about trying everything to break her hold. I had to take on the second one myself. It swiped at me and I rolled inside of its strike. The creature hadn’t expected this and it searched the space that I’d disappeared from. Taking advantage of its dazed state, I extend my axe and drove the spiked end between its exposed ribs, what I could only assume was its weak point. It screamed with pain and coughed out a huge gob of blood. I put all my might into a twist that embedded the axe in the creature’s chest. I made my escape, dashing between its legs. I kicked its hindquarters on my way out, hoping it might cause it to collapse on top of the axe and seal the deal. No luck there, my leg could hardly reach. I was glad we were in a battle and that no one had seen the failed attempt. 

I looked over my shoulder to check on Frigga. Her chain was collapsed back into a cane, an expired cleric beast lying before her. 

“Check on Cato.” She barked at me 

I needed no further excuse to put distance between me and the remaining beast. I heard the sounds of slashing and the scream of the beast as I sprinted for the altar. I had almost made it, but then I heard an enormous thud. 

Frigga had slain the other cleric beast. There could be no question why she led her pack, disposing of the monstrous enemy with minimal effort. So long as she knew what she was up against there could be no taking her down. 

Cato was slumped against the wall, lying on his side. His arms shook with effort as he tried to shift to his feet. 

“Stay down, stay down.” I said to him. “They’re slain. Frigga’s got them.” 

“Bastards.” He wheezed. His breath came out in a staggered struggled sort of way. He groaned. “Hurts like shit.” 

“Where?” I asked. I had limited medical experience but I knew that was one of the questions that you were supposed to ask. 

“My side.” He choked. 

I couldn’t get a good look at the side he indicated as he was lying on top of it. I figured it might be best to get the weight off of his injury and helped him shift to a seated position. He groaned and gritted his teeth against the pain. 

Frigga returned to us shortly and handed two teeth to Cato. Another prize to add to his collection. 

“I’ve got the vial drainers attached. Replace the fulls with empties. Get as much as you can.” She instructed handing me a bag full of glass vials. “I’ll look after him.” 

I nodded and dashed over to the slain beasts. For a little while I was wary of them, afraid that they were going to spring at me. They were intimidating even in death. All the same, when one of the vials was full I went to my task and was reassuring myself that they were dead and could not harm me. 

I sat in between the two beasts and watched the vials fill; switching them out as required. It calmed me down and the fear and tension subsided somewhat. The church was thankfully made of stone so not much had caught fire but there were still places that had too much flame in them for my liking. 

Frigga came up to me and laid a hand on my shoulder, “He’s got a few cracked ribs I think. Templeton will know for sure. We’ve got to get him out of here but he’s not going to be able to move very well.” 

“I don’t suppose we can call for a coach?” I joked trying to lighten the mood a little. 

Whether Frigga hadn’t gotten the joke or it just fell flat I didn’t know for she just responded with a blunt “No.” 

“I think we could put together some sort of stretcher.” I offered more seriously. 

“That will work. Go to it.” She said taking up my place with the blood vials. 

The church had plenty of materials at hand. I overturned two candelabra stands and pulled out the pins that connected the poles to the top and base until I just had two iron poles. I pulled down a smaller wall hanging bearing a cross on it. I tore part of it into strips and left the rest whole. 

I used the blade of my axe to make a few slits in the hanging and then slipped the strips through and tied them around the poles. It was slipshod, and I had no idea whether it would take weight or not but we were running out of time and options. 

Half embarrassed with its ragged appearance I brought it over to Frigga. She looked it over quickly. 

“It’ll have to do.” She assessed. “I’m done draining the blood as well. Let’s move.” 

Cato half scooted half crawled onto the stretcher. The fabric sagged but managed to hold him. Frigga tucked his saw and her cane into straps at her belt. We hefted the stretcher up with both hands and bore the burden between the both of us, me at the front and Frigga at the rear. 

“I’ll take care of whatever we run into.” She said, “Just keep going forward, and if it comes to it, stand and protect.” 

“I think I can manage that.” I said. 

“Leave me if…you have to.” Cato rasped. 

Neither of us replied. We had to set him down and wedge the door open further before we could leave but we made it out of the church without further incident and started back towards the library. 

I set the pace and it was a sharp clip, I regretted the speed of it. The excitement fear and tension was choking enough but now the night air added its coldness and it was rough going. I wished I had tied the strips a little tighter as well since there was a considerable amount of sliding that occurred and every few feet it felt like we had to adjust things. Silence and stealth were impossible. 

We passed the crow corpses and the bodies of the Great Wolves. I breathed a sigh of relief, the turn off street for the bridge. 

I looked back to say something of encouragement to Frigga but the second I did a hellhound leapt at me and knocked me down. I cursed myself for letting my guard slip and pulled the axe from my belt. 

The hound came at me again; as it leapt I slashed it in the throat. It was dead by the time it hit the ground. I returned to the stretcher and Frigga glared at me. 

“Eyes up.” She said. 

We continued and made it to the turn off. The entrance wasn’t all too far from us now. Instead of a dark street like I’d expected there was the soft glow of torchlight. There were others about, maybe some more hunters. I continued towards them before Frigga jerked the poles from her end and pulled me back. 

“They’re not friendly.” She whispered to me. 

We ducked into an alleyway. The torchbearers were blocking our path and I could see now that a few of them resembled Smoke Eyes. 

“Can we wait them out?” I asked in a shaking whisper. “Maybe they’ll move on.” 

She shook her head. “I’ll go across the roofs and take them by surprise. You stay with him.” 

“That’s…risky.” Cato wheezed. 

“We don’t really have a lot of options.” Frigga replied, “I also can’t get a good read on how many enemies are out there. It could turn out to just be one or two. I’ll pick them off easy and it won’t be a problem.” 

I was sure Cato was going to be argue but he started to cough and Frigga took the opportunity to scale the wall and dodge the issue. 

“Bastard.” Cato wheezed again. 

We sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. It’s weird how waiting can make the time feel like forever and yet no time at all. I fussed with the bat wing on my axe blade. I wiped the excess blood off of it with my coat and proceeded to clean the rest of the weapon. Once my axe was fully clean I heard Frigga coming back over the rooftops. Skilled as she was it’s hard not to make a sound on roofing no matter your experience with stealth. 

She hopped down into the alley with us. 

“We’re going to have to find a way to get him up.” She said, “There’s a huge pack of the infected out there. At least twenty maybe more. I can’t even risk slipping back home for backup, I don’t know if they’ll see us or not. There’s a couple of hounds with them.” 

“Just leave…me behind.” Cato said. 

Frigga shook her head. 

“Maybe..if we used the chain from your weapon as a rope…we could kind of thread it between the poles and make a kind of sling out of that stretcher…if you and I tie each end of the chain around us, maybe we can pull him up.” I supposed. 

Frigga seemed pleased with that and we bent to the task at once. I was terrified that the chain was going to snap, it was so fine and so thin. A fall from the height we would be at wasn’t too awful, but Cato was already injured and I didn’t want my haphazard invention to be a cause for further harm. Frigga assured me that the metal the chain was made out of was far stronger than it looked. 

We got it all rigged together in hardly any time at all. Cato’s feet stuck out awkwardly at one end and he had to keep a tight grip on the cloth so that he wouldn’t shift and slip out one end but it would be enough to get him to the rooftops and quite possibly back down again. 

It took longer than I thought it would to get to the top of the roof. Every inch I gained was a strain on my muscles and the chain dug into my waist uncomfortably. It had spikes in places to better attack enemies and every now and again one jabbed you or caused a tear in your clothing. My fingers dug around for a grip on windowsills and flowerboxes until at last they dipped into grimy gutter water and we hauled ourselves up onto the shingled roof. 

The spikey points tried to bite into us through our gloves as we hauled hand over hand pulling Cato up the rest of the way. Many of the fabric straps were starting to rip or loosen and Frigga and I spent a few minutes adjusting. Cato sacrificed the bottom of his pants converting them to shorts in order to replace some of the more damaged straps. 

“Just hold out a little longer.” Frigga said. “We’re nearly there.” 

Once the stretcher was repaired and we had unthreaded the chain and got Cato all situated we continued. It was a difficult task, some of the roofs had steep inclines. Others were taller than the one that came before and we had to heft Cato up and across before we could scramble up ourselves. Frigga warned me to be on the lookout for crows but I never saw any, and after a short time we were staring down at the sewer cover that enclosed the hideout’s entrance. 

That was the problem however, that we were looking down at it instead of standing around it, or shimmying down the ladder. From our rooftop position it was easy enough to see but several of the infected humans, one hairy and two with the glowing smoke eyes were nearby and would in all likelihood hear us and try to kill us if we set foot on the ground. 

Frigga tried tossing some pebbles to get them distracted for a few moments but either they didn’t hear them or they didn’t care. Nobody gave chase. We leaned against a chimney, catching our breaths and trying to figure out a way around things. I was exhausted, I could feel the soreness in my legs and arms. Frigga must’ve been feeling it too although she didn’t show it much. Her hat was slightly askew and she had a few flyaway hairs. Blood had stained her clothes in more places than one. 

Cato was largely unconscious. He was drifting in and out of things, muttering strangely or telling us to just turn back and leave him. I felt his forehead and it was warm to the touch but it didn’t feel like anything abnormal. I was just guessing though. I had no idea how to look after this sort of thing. This would’ve been the time when Mallory would’ve told me to just go to Doc Keller’s but I’d seen how well that had turned out and it wasn’t about to happen again. 

“We’ll wait them out.” Frigga decided. “All of our gang mates have to come back this way, and they know to clear the streets out as they go. Someone will be along before sunrise and they can help us.” 

This sounded like as wise a plan as any. Frigga took some time to clean off her cane and chain and when she had finished that she gave a go at Cato’s saw; removing bits of bone that had become lodged within the blades. I kept a lookout while she worked. 

The night wore on and Cato’s condition seemed to worsen. I considered saying that we should try something besides waiting when our wait started to pay off. We heard the sounds of slashing and moans and groans from below. Frigga and I squinted into the darkness awhile before three fuzzy yellow circles of light came in to focus. 

Templeton and the twins were below us. The twins were cutting down everything in their path so quickly you could scarcely see it. Templeton was behind them, guns at the ready if anything were to make its way past her formidable vanguard. 

Everything on the street had been slain in seconds and they were starting to lift the sewer grate. Frigga hurled a pebble towards them and they looked up at us. I waved my lantern light at them to get their attention and they headed over. 

“Blimey Frigga, is that you?” Templeton asked from below. 

“Yes.” She replied, “Cato’s wounded we need your help.” 

“I…I don’t have my medical books with me their back at home.” Templeton said a nervous twinge in her apologetic tone. 

“That’s ok.” I said, “We need help getting him home. We couldn’t come down because of the creepy guys but you got them.” 

Templeton nodded her understanding. 

“We will lower him down.” I said. “Sage, Salem can you go ahead and make sure the sewer is clear, don’t want to run into any surprise rats.” 

The twins were off without a moment’s hesitation. Frigga and I converted the stretcher back to sling mode and got Cato down to Templeton. We scampered down ourselves just a minute or so after. 

“We should hurry.” Frigga said, “There were more infected up the path and I don’t want them to get in our way.” 

Having an extra person to shoulder the burden with made the going much quicker. We kept the stretcher as a sling and once we received the ok lowered Cato down to Sage and Salem. His feet scraped the side of the narrow sewer tunnel but he went down fairly quick and Frigga’s chain seemed to always be just the length we needed to complete our task. Sage and Salem carried Cato the rest of the way. I walked behind them in front of Frigga and Templeton. 

When we made it into the library I felt like I could finally breathe again. I lay down on the floor while Salem got a fire going. The other groups hadn’t come back yet from the look of it. Templeton and Sage took Cato back further into the library, presumably to whatever medical area they had. Frigga sat on the hearth and talked with Salem awhile. 

They had gone out looking for big things to slay just like Frigga had asked, but they hadn’t had much luck. They said they had stuck to the sewers for a while clearing out rats and something they called drownedmen. It was easy going until they came to a giant mutant boar which they did manage to kill although Templeton had to deplete most of her bullet supply. They’d gotten some blood from that then headed up and patrolled someplace called the tomb of Odeon and cleared that out of all small beasts. 

Frigga told Salem that they had done well and that clearing out the more obscure areas was important too. She didn’t want the beasts holing up somewhere and multiplying. She related in turn our tale about the duo of cleric beasts. 

She was about halfway through it’s telling when the trapdoor popped open and Anwen’s large frame shouldered through. Imogen climbed up behind her. 

“Where’s Mouse?” I asked noting his absence. 

Anwen turned round and there he was clinging piggyback style to her shoulders, nestled in around her kirkhammer. 

“He got his foot stamped on real hard by one of the infected.” Imogen explained, “He should be ok but he got tired pretty easily and it was easier for Anwen to carry him.” 

Anwen nodded her agreement and set Mouse down in a chair. She scooted the chair closer to the fire so that he could warm up. 

“It’s nearly dawn.” Anwen said after a time. “The others should have been back by now.” 

“That’s two nights in a row a group paired with Barristan has been late getting back.” Imogen observed. 

“Suppose you’re right.” Anwen agreed. 

We waited. Templeton and Sage and Cato were still back in the stacks a ways. Salem fell asleep and Imogen soon after that. Frigga started to pace back and forth when the light of sunrise came through some of the cracks and tinted bits of the library with its vibrant shades. 

The trapdoor shook and was slowly pushed open. 

We saw Barristan’s head come up his hat stained with blood. Frigga, Anwen and I rushed to help him. Anwen hauled him out in one swift motion. 

“Where are the others?” Frigga asked. 

“Gone.” Barristan said, “I barely got away in time. It was a hunter gone mad in the main circle by the clinic entrance. She was on the rampage I’d never seen anything like it before. Alfie…good kid he was tried to fight her but…she was too fast. Too fast for any of us. She cut him down in one swing, Frigga. Scarlett and I turned and ran I don’t know where she ended up. There was no way we could take her on, we were just going by there to pick up candles we weren’t prepared.” 

“Mad hunters were beyond your capacity to handle.” Anwen assessed coolly. “We sent our most skilled after the clerics figuring they were the biggest threat but it was not so. There’s no shame in what you did.” 

“Should we wake the others and tell them?” Barristan asked. 

“No.” Frigga replied. “Let them sleep. We all need rest, I’ll stand watch.” 

Anwen, Barristan and I trudged upstairs; the rest still asleep by the great fire’s dying embers. We didn’t say anything to each other. 

With all the things I’d seen tonight I expected it to take a while for sleep to set in but I was out the second I hit the hammock. 

I slept the whole day through in what I could only assume was the proper fashion for a hunter. Templeton shook me awake around six o’clock, still before sunset. 

“Hey can you come with me to the attic? I want to see if we have a wheelchair for Cato, he wants to come to communion.” She asked. 

“Y-yeah sure.” I stammered shaking the sleep from myself and standing up. 

Templeton led me to an elevator shaft with a ladder inside of it. The ladder was standing on the roof of the elevator compartment where people could take it up, but it had long since been decommissioned. We climbed the ladder until we reached the third floor which although Templeton had called it an attic seemed like it was still part of the library. The only difference I noted was that the ceilings were slightly lower and the shelves dustier and far less organized. They had been pushed here and there with no apparent order. Weapons and scraps of metal and broken chairs were everyplace. 

“Start looking.” Templeton said 

“Is Cato doing ok?” I asked as I checked behind a rickety shelving unit. 

“He’s got a few cracked ribs but he’s decent otherwise, probably a bruise here or there. We’ve got to keep him from moving too much. I bandaged his chest up but he’s got to keep his breathing shallow, too deep and he could risk puncturing a lung. He’ll need some time but he should heal up. He’s pretty tough.” 

She shoved aside a rotting wooden door that someone had bothered to carry up to the attic for one reason or another. 

“Aha!” Templeton announced in triumph. 

Behind the door was a rather ornate wheelchair. There were great filigrees inside of the wheels and the chair was padded leather. There was even a small stand at the back where one could light and keep a lantern if one felt so inclined. 

“Thought I had saved this.” She said with a grin. 

We took it downstairs. Everyone else had awoken by the time we got down there. Anwen and Barristan shifted Cato into his chair and he sat at the table with the rest of us. Nobody said much. 

Frigga cleared her throat and spoke, “I want you all to stay far away from the clinic. There’s a mad hunter around and at communion tonight I’ll get someone to take care of it. Alfie has moved on to hunt on another plane. We will honor him by destroying that which strived to destroy him. This hunter may have gotten to Scarlett too, I do not know.” 

Imogen let out a loud sniffle from the far end of the table before speaking, “We need to go looking for her.” 

Frigga shook her head, “She knows her way around Yharnam and like I said, it’s too dangerous to try anything. The hunters of hunters will deal with it and they’ll find her. Communion must be attended solemn though our circumstances are. Some of you will have to stay behind, I don’t want there to be any chance of the mad one increasing her territory and commandeering our hideout. No one is to hunt while I am gone. We’ll have to wait this one out.” 

There were a few disheartened sighs. People wanted to vent their anger by killing more things. Even Cato gritted his teeth at this news despite his condition. He wouldn’t be allowed to hunt anything soon.


	5. Chapter the Fifth: Communion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How I envision communion meetings used to go, with all the mentions and chalices it seemed like it was a big part of hunter culture.
> 
> Also...may or may not kind of have watched mad max around this time and wanted some war boys. Forgive me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always please let me know what you think, your comments and feedback mean the world to me!

“Templeton, Cato, Imogen and Barristan are going to come with me.” Frigga announced. 

There were no cheers or arguments. Those staying huddled up and so did I and the party I was leaving with. Frigga led us down the sewer into a side tunnel. We followed it. The tunnel had numerous iron grates, each one locked and we had to wait for Frigga to unlock each with a key she kept in one of her pockets. She locked them all behind us as well making sure to double check that each was secure. There was no way any outsider would be dedicated enough to pick every lock to see where the tunnel led and it’s not like rats were smart enough to figure out that kind of thing. 

After the endless hall of gates we came to an incline and it opened up into a large archway. We passed under the arch and into a large church. It was big enough to hold seven cleric beasts although I bet they’d think twice before coming in due to the sheer number of hunters present. They were everywhere, some alone and some in packs. 

Everyone was moving too, and there was music. Hunters were dancing. Others had huge tables set up and there were piles of clothes and weapons. Templeton started to explain to me how things worked. 

“Every group of hunters is supposed to attend as often as they can. The groups all get coins when they come in, Frigga is getting ours now. You get one for every hunter in your group. There’s a huge chart at the front and people can put their coins in some of the squares on it like for blood if their running low or food or weapons. Coins can be saved from meeting to meeting and they can also be tossed in during the debate. You throw one in and can speak your bit and request help or bring up a territory claim or something like that.” 

“So we’ll get ten?” I asked. 

“We don’t get any, only Frigga does since she’s lead. She’ll probably campaign for 11 since Scarlett is undetermined as of yet. We’ll get more though since people need blood vials, they can get some directly from us instead of waiting for an allotment from the council.” 

“I’ll go set up our table.” Imogen said collecting the satchels of blood vials from each of us. Templeton and I stayed with Frigga, we were admitted inside after she collected her 11 coins. Our table was towards the far end of the room and next to a group of gentleman who had a strange appearance to them. I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but there was something about their skin and the way that they moved that was different than it should be. 

Maybe it was just another effect that the beast blood had on them. They were all wearing open vests and had upside crosses painted on their chests with soot and coal. When Frigga strode passed them they all took a knee and stretched out their right arm. She returned a simple standard bow and they all stood. 

“Madam Frigga!” One said in a booming voice. He had short black spiked hair and an additional eyeball drawn with charcoal on his forehead. “We have a gift for you.” 

Frigga looked a little surprised. 

“Those are the Altered Boys.” Templeton explained, “They were all young fresh hunters in a church group. The church groups are real pious and proper and felt that these boys weren’t fitting in on their turf. It’s frowned upon but a hunter can be rejected by their group. The church tried to “cleanse” their group saying that they though the boys had become infected, if you want my opinion I think the boys hadn’t collected enough blood and they wanted to kill them and drink the blood of hunters. Some people go crazy like that.” 

“That’s awful.” I said 

Templeton nodded and continued, “They were being chased out of the church and the church group was herding them all towards these things called Mosquitos, though not the bugs you’re thinking of. They would let the Mosquitos kill the boys and then slay them and take the blood stored in their sacks. Frigga saw this all happening and she spoke out against the church group at the next council. The boys managed to survive the attack that night and they came here seeking to become a group of their own. Most turned their backs but Frigga argued for them and she threw in all of our coins and she won. That was the last communion we went to.” 

“What have you brought for me?” Frigga asked them. 

The boys opened a door to the outside and the room fell nearly silent. The Altered Boys were desecrating this church too as a pair of them led a horse into the room. She was a beautiful thing, light gray coat, the color of smoke with silvery spots dappled all around. She had a white marking around her nose and mouth and a dark charcoal mane and tail. 

“For you to ride into battle.” The one who’d spoken before with the extra fake eyeball said. 

“Hunters don’t typically ride…” She muttered but she too was taken in by the grace and beauty of the creature, “And we don’t have a place to keep her.” 

“We shall build one for you.” Fake Eye insisted. He knelt down and Frigga, perhaps intrigued or perhaps not wanting to sneer at the gift stepped atop his back and then sat astride the mare. 

It did suit her. She looked like an aristocrat of some note and her silver hair was a beautiful compliment to the creature. 

“How did you manage to find one alive, Larkspur?” Frigga asked 

Larkspur, who was indeed the one who had been doing all of the talking grinned. “I sent out many boys in search of a proper thank you. We discovered her in Old Yharnam, no idea how the beasts hadn’t found her til we approached and she ran. Fastest thing we’d ever seen. We spent a few days trying to catch her, it wasn’t until Rook gave it a go that we got anywhere.” 

He waved ad one of the boys came over. This one had blonde hair and was wearing a necklace with a tooth on it. He grinned when he saw Frigga then looked over to Cato and gasped. “Shit what happened.” 

“It’s nothing.” Cato said quickly. 

“Tell Madam Frigga how you got her horse.” Larkspur prompted. 

Rook’s eyes lingered on Cato before he began his story. He’d won the horse by bribery, namely a bucket of apples. He’d had the rest of the Altered Boys spook her til she ran towards him and then acted calm as can be. The mare had taken to him rather quickly, and even now she leaned over and gave his hair a playful nibble. 

“Swifts what I called her..you can change it if you like.” Rook said patting the mare on the neck. 

“Swift suits her fine. You’ll have to bring her by later she can’t go through the sewers. We’d be glad to host a few of you at our place until you find a way to make our grounds suitable for her.” 

Larkspur nodded. “We were thinking of trying to clear out the clinic. Cathedral Ward is nice and the area is clear but it’s time we found a place to defend and call our own.” 

“There’s a hunter gone mad at the clinic.” Cato said, “You can’t go there. We’ve got to get it sorted at this meeting.” 

“Well best of luck. We’ll throw our coins in with yours if you need them.” Rook assured her. 

Frigga nodded and made as if she was going to dismount but decided to stay atop the mare. She could see above everyone and they all had to look up to her, which would no doubt aid in our struggle to secure whatever we needed. 

Imogen had spread out the supplies we had to offer, namely string after string of blood vials on our little space. 

“Go on meet some people.” Imogen encouraged. “Frigga and I will do the wheelin’ and dealin.” 

Templeton, Cato and I set off. There was a ludicrous amount of bowing that went on and every hunter’s salute had to be returned. My back was aching by the time we crossed the room. Templeton had led us to a big banquet table full of food. 

I froze for a second. On the opposite side of the table were a pair of antlers, just like the cleric beasts. I was about to pull my axe from my pocket when suddenly a head bobbed up beneath them, a human head. Her hair mingled with the silver grey fur of the hooded cloak she wore, sewn from the skin of a slain cleric beast. 

“Templeton!” She greeted with happy recognition, “Finally got your nose out of your books and decided to join us for communion.” 

Templeton snatched a pastry from one of the plates and took an angry bite out of it. She swallowed and then spoke, “You know as well as I do that it’s up to Frigga when we come and when we stay back.” The cleric beast lady turned to me as though she had never even started a conversation with Templeton. “Hello.” She said fixing me with an unsettling stare. “My name is Fwahe. You must be new.” 

“Nice to meet you.” I said apprehensively returning her greeting with about the eight hundredth bow of the evening. “I’m Sterling, and yes I’m new. I only joined up a day or two ago…a lot has happened since then.” 

“And Cato,” She said now letting our conversation fall by the wayside along with Templeton’s. “Is that a new tooth I spy? Cleric beast if I’m not mistaken.” 

How it was possible that she had notice the new tooth among the hundreds other that Cato was sporting but failed to recognize the fact that he was in a wheelchair. Everyone else surely had and they stopped to point and look. Cato had to nod his head at them instead of bowing back and I could tell it was throwing him off. Every time someone approached you could see his hand tense around the armrest of his chair like he was going to use it for balance to stand up before the realization of his condition would hit him again and he’d let his hands relax. 

Cato grinned. “Right as usual Fwahe, a cleric indeed. We went out slaying last night. Took on two at once in a church by mistake, but we made it out alive. Sterling and Frigga were with me.” 

“Where is the other member of our dear little silver hair club?” Fwahe said with a laugh. 

“Oh you know she’s kind of the only one prancing about on a fucking horse.” Templeton said reaching for a second pastry still irritable from Fwahe’s earlier comments no doubt. Fwahe nodded to us and then went bounding across the room making a beeline towards Frigga. 

“She was rather strange.” I commented. 

My stomach growled and I stacked a variety of things on a plate nibbling at scones and dipping some crusty bread in a bowl of vegetable soup as we continued. Templeton had filled her empty blood vial satchel with sweets when she thought no one was looking but a thief can spot a thief anywhere and at any time. Cato preferred to down huge slices of savory pie that looked as though it had some sort of sea creatures baked inside it, eel or octopus perhaps. Definitely on the more exotic side of the table. 

Templeton pointed out a few other gangs to me but they were blurring together in my head rather badly, there were just too many people. My head was starting to spin. 

I was given some relief by the clanging of the big church bell. In an organized swarm people scurried back to their tables. When I returned to ours I noticed that half of the blood vials we had brought with us had been taken. There was a clear space in the center of the room where no tables or hunters were. The stone flooring came together in a circle design there and that is where all of our attention was directed. 

The person who entered the circle seemed to be about forty or fifty years old. He was wearing a black cape and wore a hat in the same style as Frigga with the tattered ears. He held up his hands and the room fell to silence, the only sounds a few hushed whispers one of which came from Imogen to me. 

“That is Abbot Minimus.” She explained, “He is the head of all the hunters in England and he runs all of the communions.” 

“Welcome Hunters old and new.” Minimus said, “I am so pleased to see you all gathered before me tonight, the moon is full and the streets are cleaner than I’ve ever seen them. These nights of beasthood and brutality will come to an end one day, but until then I am lucky to have all of you as my brothers in arms.” The Hunters all cheered at this point and the church echoed with their shouts. Minimus smiled and let us revel before holding up his hand again and letting us quiet down. 

“I am sure you all have business to discuss with me.” He said and he took a silver bowl from behind his back and set it in the center of the room, “But before we begin I’d like to bring something to your attention.” 

A hush fell over the crowd. Even the whispers stopped and I gathered that this did not happen very often. 

“It has come to my attention that there are a number of strange things that have been happening, strange even for our kind. Hunters of all ages and skill levels are being snatched, taken. I would think that perhaps someone, maybe a group of disgruntled denizens who reject the hunt for one reason or another might be behind this but there have been no bodies found.” 

A cacophonous chorus of voices began some screaming in agreement others trying to advocate for the fact that deserters happened or other logical causes for a sensation of this nature. 

Minimus raised his hand again and although it took longer than before silence returned and he continued, “I would not worry you with this my Hunters unless I thought it merited some serious investigation. Between now and when we last met, there have been no less than one hundred and thirty-two missing hunters reported to me one way or another. The messengers bring me more every day. 

In just over a month one hundred and thirty-two of us have been spirited away. This cannot be allowed to happen. I will be holding another meeting in three days’ time, I want you all to consider what you can spare and who you can lend. I myself will be leading an investigation into these things and I ask all those interested to join me.” 

Minimus sat down and all of the groups turned in amongst themselves and began to discuss what was just said. 

“That must be what happened to Scarlett.” Imogen said, “I’ll go Frigga! Let me go I’ll find the bastards who did this and I’ll kill them.” 

“We will aid in the Abbot’s cause of course.” Frigga said. She paused after that, you could feel the weight of her careful consideration before she continued, “But with what happened with Alfie, I’m just not sure if sending a hunter is going to be the aid we give them. We can’t afford to lose anyone Imogen.” 

“But Scarlett could still be alive, they might need someone to watch from the rooftops and see what’s coming and warn them. That’s where I excel Frigga you’ve got to let me go with them.” She argued. 

“I am certain that Minimus has already thought of the rooftops. Let’s just keep our heads and wait and see what happens at the meeting. I’m sure that they will already have more volunteers then they know what to do with.” Frigga assured her, “I’m almost certain there’s going to be some sort of try outs or assessment. Minimus is only going to want the very best for his team. I’m not sure that any of us would qualify.” 

“I would.” Cato growled, “If that damn cleric beast hadn’t broken half my ribs.” 

“If you were good enough for Minimus you wouldn’t have gotten injured at all.” Templeton said, “He is a hunter of hunters. Beasts are below him no matter their numbers. He would have slain both of those cleric beasts no problem. His scythe is far stronger than your saw.” 

Cato was about to respond but Frigga cut him off, “Let’s not fight. We need to at least appear as though we have ourselves together or people are going to question my judgement. Saving the Altered Boys last time was a huge risk, if it’s not too much trouble I would like my own hunters to keep their damn wits about them and conduct themselves with some dignity.” 

I’d never seen Frigga loose her temper with someone before but we all snapped our mouths shut real quickly. There wasn’t any use trying to fight with her, especially with the air of authority she had from her elevated position. 

“Having trouble Frigga?” a sneering voice asked. 

Imogen rolled her eyes and Cato sighed. From the group to our other side, the one that wasn’t packed full of Altered Boys. 

Swift snorted, as though even the mare could sense the unpleasantness oozing from the person who stepped into view. She was dressed in billowing church garb, stark black and white and she had her dark chocolate hair braided in a single long braid down her back. It nearly swept the floor and looked like some sort of giant wasp stinger. 

“Not at all Sister Veera.” Frigga replied coolly. 

“Oh really?” Veera asked, “A little birdie told me that you’d lost yet another one of your little soldiers. You just can’t keep them alive can you?” 

Frigga gritted her teeth. 

“You shut up about Alfie!” Cato snapped 

Veera chuckled, “Or what, you’ll run me over? Honestly why did you bring him here? He’s not even a half a hunter.” 

“He’s more hunter then you’ll ever be!” Imogen shouted angrily. 

“Oh and I heard your little girlfriend is one of the ones gone missing.” Veera said going on attack against Imogen now. “Probably for the best, immoral things you were getting up to I’m sure.” 

“That’s quite enough Sister!” Frigga growled. The Altered Boys all turned their heads looking up from their own discussions as did many others around us. “You have no authority here.” 

Veera dipped her head and bowed but the motion was over exaggerated and dripping with malice, “We shall see Lady Frigga, we shall see.” 

“If you’re quite finished!” We looked back across the room to see that Abbot Minimus was standing again and looking directly at us. 

“Apologies Abbot.” Frigga said face flushed. “It’s been a hard few days for us.” 

“Be that as it may, everyone else seems able to hold control over their hunters and many are facing more shortages then you. I would caution against any more outbursts Lady Frigga.” 

Frigga dipped her head and gave Minimus a tight lipped smile. Cato dug his nails into the armrests of his wheelchair and gritted his teeth. He was holding back a torrent of curse words. 

Minimus turned back to the crowd, “Anyone else?” 

Nobody spoke. 

“Well now that I can continue without being so rudely interrupted, I believe it’s time for any new hunters to come up and join blood with their brothers and sisters.” Minimus began. “Would all of the new hunters join me in the center of the room, please?” 

There was an awkward shuffling as Hunters shifted and leaned this way and that to make way for others to pass through. I wanted nothing more than to just hang back and not draw any attention to our group, but Templeton prodded me forward and I navigated my way through the crowd and into the center. There were many others making their way up with me and in total we were fifteen. I didn’t know if this was a good turnout for new hunters or a poor one. 

Minimus surely made no comment on it. “Whatever the circumstances that brought you here you all are one of us now. You’ve been half-cut with beats’ blood and now you shall join with ours.” 

Minimus ambled through the crowd, which easily parted for him. The people in these seats must’ve known the drill. He walked to the front of the church and unlocked the altar, where the Eucharist and such were kept if you were someplace like South End. Inside was a large glass jar framed with silver filigrees, a beautiful thing of twisting glass and melted metal but inside was blood, and that tainted its beauty. Abbot Minimus brought it over to us. 

“This contains blood from every hunter in this room, in addition to those who have come before us or departed or could not be here tonight. Everyone here needs blood to live and you must now join your blood with ours and devote your life to us.” 

From his pocket the Abbot removed a silver knife that glinted and gleamed in the light. 

“All you need give us is a drop.” The Abbot instructed; holding out the knife handle to the person on his right. 

She took it and pricked her fingertip until a drop of blood came out. Minimus unscrewed the lid of the jar and shook her finger until a drop fell out and mingled with the others. Minimus wiped off the knife and passed it to the next person. We all completed the task fairly quickly. Once it was done he re-screwed the lid and said “May the good blood guide your way.” 

This was repeated by all the other hunters in the room. He waved us away and we went back to where we’d come from. 

“Now on to my last bit of business before we can hear from all of you and address your needs and concerns.” Minimus continued, “We have a few new hunters of hunters to bring forth. They have completed their tests and their training and I have overseen their progress personally. They will make fine additions to our collective. Sister Veera from the Charnel Lane district, Brother Clovis from the Unseen Village and Lady Nell from the Riverwork’s division.” 

Room was cleared for them as well. Veera practically skipped past us smirking the whole way. Clearly she’d just won a position of some authority. Templeton ran her fingers through her hair and sighed in irritation. They were all given badges of a sort, and I noticed that Abbot Minimus wore the same sort around his neck. 

“Hunters of Hunters, our most elite rank.” Minimus continued, “When one of our own turns on us, goes mad from blood overdose or some other unfortunate series of circumstances then it is up to the best of the best to put it an end to it. Now we have a few more to protect us as we carry on in these dark times. May the good blood guide their way.” 

Veera, Clovis and Nell all returned to their seats. 

“Now my good hunters, I invite you to throw your coins in and we shall hear your concerns and address them as best we’re able.” Minimus said. 

The second he was done speaking a coin clattered into the center circle. The coin had been flung by one of the Altered Boys. As they navigated their way through the crowd many groups bunched together, blocking their way. Another coin came in from across the room, and Minimus inclined his head in their direction instead of the Altered Boys’. 

“Hey!” Cato shouted, “They tossed their coin first. Are you going blind Minimus?” 

“You must be able to stand in the center of the circle for your word to count here,” Minimus began, barely turning his head back to us, “and being as you can’t do that I think you best hold your tongue, boy.” 

“He has a point though.” Fwahe, the cleric beast cloaked one from before said flicking a coin deftly into the center from her fingers, “The crazies were first. They were inducted as Hunters and they have as much right to speak here as any of us. They were first and they have the floor.” 

“She’s right.” Lady Nell, one of the new hunters of hunters added, “Let them speak.” 

More stood to rally the cause and Minimus did not want a fight. He bowed his head begrudgingly and one of the Altered Boys came forward. He was tiny, you could see every rib in this kid. 

“Thank you Hunters. My name is Beetle and I speak for the Altered Boys. We’ve been facing numerous problems brothers and sisters.” He began, “We still haven’t been given a district, a territory a home base. We can’t go out and hunt because we’d be stealing from other hunters. You need to cede some ground to us, we can’t survive under bridges and overhangs. We’ve been wearing our welcome at Cathedral Ward thin, they never meant for us to be there so long and don’t have the resources to support an entire group of us.” 

“You could join with the Italian sectors. Their spread pretty thin, I hear that Venice is open and the canals are choked with drowned ones, why not move on and hunt there?” One of those church hunters suggested. 

“We’ve no desire to leave our home.” The boy replied, “We don’t see why we couldn’t get a section of the Forbidden Woods or maybe a little spot near Cainhurst. There’s plenty enough for all but you’ve yet to give us a single assignment.” 

“Perhaps if you looked up to the task.” Minimus began 

“We’re getting thin from running and lack of blood. We can only get it from communion and it doesn’t last. We’re going to turn by your own hands if you don’t let us hunt somewhere. We’ve reviewed the maps and seen that no one has taken up Iosefka’s Clinic. We wish to make it our home and take some of lower Yharnam as our rightful hunting grounds.” 

It was Frigga who spoke up next, “While I do agree with Beetle, the boys need territory you cannot give them the clinic at this time. I was going to bring this up anyways but there’s a hunter gone mad in the clinic. We lost one of our own to them last night and we require a Hunter of Hunters to eradicate them.” 

Templeton, standing steady next to her gave a nod of agreement. 

“I’d be glad to volunteer.” Sister Veera said, “I can clear out the clinic for Lady Frigga and then we can let the Altered Boys move in and settle this mess once and for all.” 

“That’s settled then.” Minimus said, “Who shall speak next.” 

Beetle shuffled his way back to his group and they seemed to have rather mixed emotions about the whole thing. 

“Like hell she’s going to clear it out.” Cato hissed to me, “She’ll take her sweet time doing it and what will we be by then? She’ll wait until the boys are just scarecrows before making her first move. She and her bloody murder church.” 

Communion went on and on, so many groups were running out of blood it was terrifying. Our supply was exhausted by them, blood starved they begged for whatever could be spared, and their groups were none too small. Templeton never spoke up or reacted to anything in particular but her hand must have been about to fly off her wrist. Every second someone was up speaking she was taking furious notes filling up page after page. 

“It doesn’t make any sense.” Frigga muttered, “How can there be so many Hunters gone missing and yet such an enormous demand for blood. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many people requesting before.” 

Fwahe had tossed a coin in at one point and asked if anyone could spare some bolt paper. 

“What’s bolt paper?” I asked Cato. 

“It’s for cheaters is what it is, and I never pegged Fwahe for one. You can rub it on your weapon and it’s enchanted somehow, your weapon will be charged with electricity and lasers and such for a short time. It’s helpful bringing down big beasts but most skilled hunters have no use for it.” 

“That’s not true at all.” Imogen said, “It can make your weapon enchanted but it’s not a cheat. The only reason every hunter doesn’t have it on them all the time is because it’s difficult to make and incredibly expensive even in our circles. The church groups have been trying to learn how to make it but so far the only ones who seem to have actually perfected the technique are lone woods hunters.” 

One of these woods hunters came forward dressed in an outfit with more dirt and twigs on it then cloth. They stepped to the side to bargain and the meeting continued. 

Communion reached the exhaustive point after a time and I leaned against an archway and felt my eyelids grow heavier and heavier. I’ve no idea if I actually drifted off or if I was just in and out for a while. The enormous church bell clanged and the meeting was ended. 

Frigga had dismounted her horse and handed it back to the Altered Boys, “We look forward to having you.” She told them as she led us tired hunters back home.


	6. Chapter the Sixth: In Which We Have Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cato is very bad at being injured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think :)

Anwen was waiting up for us but I didn’t have the energy to attempt conversation. I went straight up the stairs, muscles still sore I cursed each single solitary step for the strain it put on them. It was hammock sweet hammock when I got back to my room and I laid down and slept comfortably. 

I don’t think either Frigga or Templeton had taken a rest that night, when I came downstairs in the morning the entire dining table was covered in papers. Templeton’s great tomes lay open sporadically here and there. Four of them weighted down the corners of a huge map of Yharnam and there were snowdrifts of scrap paper with scribbled notes on top of everything. 

“Shit what happened?” I asked. 

“We were trying to figure out the cause of the blood shortages.” Templeton explained. 

“Oh, uh how did it go?” I asked. 

She threw up her hands in exasperation, “There’s something and it’s like right on the tip of my tongue but I just can’t put all of the pieces together. I’ve gone over this and Frigga has too a thousand times but we just can’t see it. It’s infuriating.” 

“Maybe you should just take a break.” I offered. 

Templeton shook her head and grabbed one of the scrap pieces of paper from the table. “I’m going to go see if these books will help.” She disappeared into the stacks like a rabbit to its warren. 

“Can you grab me a coffee please Sterling?” Frigga asked pushing aside some of the notes, “Templeton really thinks she can figure this one out but I’m just as lost as before and haven’t been able to sleep.” 

“Sure thing.” I said. 

I headed back to the kitchen area. Cato was sitting by the fire stirring a big pot of oatmeal, and Mouse was washing some dishes that he’d no doubt forgotten to do the night before. 

“Coffee?” I asked. 

“I’ll get it.” Cato said and rolled over a shelf stocked with dry goods. He strained up to reach for it and his breath got choked and strained. 

“It’s fine I’ll grab it.” I said, “Don’t strain yourself.” 

“Can…make…bloody…coffee.” He wheezed fingers closing around the can. He settled back down and passed it to me. 

“Templeton said to just take it easy, we don’t want you out of commission for good.” I said taking the can from him, “Can’t you just rest up for a little while?” 

“And be the laughing stock of all of England’s hunters? No Sterling I can’t do that. I’m going to show Minimus next time oh boy you better believe it. I’ll challenge him for the leaders’ seat. Everyone knows I can fight better then he can.” 

“Like you fought those cleric beasts?” Anwen said coming out from around the corner carrying an armload of flour with her. “You’ll do nothing of the sort. You won’t win even if you were completely healed.” 

“You don’t know that.” Cato said. 

“Just because you survived in Old Yharnam as a child by some miracle doesn’t mean your indestructible. The beasts are strong and some are smart but they don’t have anything on the Abbot. He knows how to fight hunters and you’ve never gone up against one so just do as Sterling suggests. Take it easy and heal up so you can get back to being a hunter and doing your job.” 

It was the most I’d ever heard Anwen speak. She did it in a sisterly tone, the words may have been harsh but she softened them with her tone. She had no desire to add insult to injury, just a dash of common sense. Cato just wheeled his way back to the fire and didn’t make any response. 

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” Anwen said, “Don’t you worry.” 

I nodded and got some water heated by the fire and brought Frigga back an entire pot of the stuff. She nodded graciously and turned her attention back to the map. “You should take some time to practice. The Altered Boys may arrive today or tomorrow and even though they have proven to be pretty loyal it couldn’t hurt to have the able bodied in a decent fighting condition.” 

“Couldn’t agree more.” Barristan said as he approached us. “Wouldn’t mind going toe to toe with the newbie if that’s ok with you Frigga. I think that I could use some practice, hunting last night got me real shook up and I want to be ready for our next beast-killing.” 

“We won’t be killing anything for a little bit.” Frigga said, “It’s not really safe to go anywhere until the mad one is killed and we’ve got injured. There’s no reason. We have what we need for now and if our supply runs low we’ll deal with it then.” 

Barristan led me behind the stairs and pulled out his set of knives. Each was shiny and sharp. He taught me how to hold them and how I was supposed to throw them. I tried for a while but couldn’t seem to get them lodged in the wooden target he’d set up. Barristan seemed to get more and more frustrated, but he kept trying to remain calm. Something beyond my inability to throw a knife was eating him up. 

“Do you miss Alfie?” I asked him as I stooped to collect the knives that had missed their mark. 

“I wasn’t paying attention, the clinic had never really been a problem before. Scarlett and I were actually kind of annoyed by the lack of things we’d killed. We let our guard down and she’s gone and Alfie is dead, part of that is on me. Part of Atlee’s death is on me.” 

“Who’s Atlee?” I asked 

Barristan shook his head, “Let’s just get back to knife throwing. Remember to follow through.” 

We threw and threw until I thought my arm was going to fall off. Relief came in the form of the Altered Boys arrival. They poured through the trapdoor in torrents each one stopping by the table and bowing to Frigga as they pulled themselves up from the sewers. They began to take up seats around the dining table. They bent over Templeton’s papers with interest and poked around her notes reading some and musing over them. Templeton made laps around the table asking for them rather politely to just leave things be. They really did try but then a new one would sit down and there’d be jostling of elbows and something would fall beneath the table and it wasn’t long before Templeton swept up her papers, folded her arms and carried her multitude of stuff off into the stacks. 

“Was it something we said?” One of the Altered Boys asked. He had his head shaved on the sides and only growing on the top, it was a dirty blonde color and had a slight curl to it. 

“No she just likes her things organized…or disorganized I suppose. She was using the table.” 

Beetle, the one who had spoken out at communion the night before gathered up a great armful of books, and the one called Larkspur, who was presumably the leader, picked up the rest of the notes and the two of them went off to help relocate Templeton. 

In total there were eighteen Altered Boys, and they vastly outnumbered us but only five of them seemed fit to do any fighting. The rest were rail thin and some of them twitched or shook or coughed and there was a good chance they carried illnesses with them. 

“What’s the lady with all the paper called?” The dirty blonde one from before asked me, the questioner. 

“Templeton.” I replied. 

“It suits her.” He mused happily. “Maybe we can help her with her notes.” 

“She’s actually trying to figure out why there are so many blood shortages happening. I don’t know if she has enough information though.” 

“Is that why she was scribbling like mad last night at the communion?” 

“I guess. She’s always writing about something.” I shrugged. 

The Altered Boys spent a lot of time talking. Mouse gave them a tour of the place and they had a great time picking out their sleeping bunks. Apparently where they’d stayed before they just had brick floors to sleep on and there were open doorways that let in the cold. They also quite enjoyed the training area and many of them began sparring with each other. 

None of them had brought trick weapons with them, and I suspected that they didn’t have any. They fought with long spears that looked like they had created themselves. The spears had a reach unlike any of the weapons we possessed but they didn’t seem very strong. I would’ve preferred to have my axe if it came to fighting another great beast. 

They were much better fighters than I, however, and despite their emaciated condition they were eager to practice and stalked circles round each other. They would swipe at each other on occasion but I could see that each was waiting for an opening to step inside the others’ strike and knock the handle of the spear out of their hands. They were all about dodging and rolling and being small targets. They were very curious about our weapons too and asked to be allowed to try them out later. 

Barristan and I sat on the steps and leaned over the railing to watch them spar. 

“Why doesn’t Frigga just ask them to join with our group?” I asked him. “They seem to essentially worship her.” 

“I think that might be a part of why she doesn’t.” Barristan said cleaning some of the grime from underneath his fingernails with one of his knives. “Frigga doesn’t just want a pack of mindless soldiers and yes-men, at least as I’ve come to understand her. Plus the Altered Boys are really weird by Hunter standards, their just a controversial group and it’s probably easier to let them live or die on their own then try and acclimate them to our way of doing things.” 

“I was told she had spoken out for them in communion though. She cares for them.” I argued. 

“Well speaking up and taking in are two really different things. She kind of has to care about the Altered Boys, it’s complicated though and it’s probably best if you don’t go needling around and asking too many questions.” 

Barristan ruffled my hair and chuckled. I took this as an attempt to be brotherly but it was forced and uncomfortable. I was too old for this kind of shit, telling Mouse not to question something would’ve worked but I wasn’t a kid and it only sparked my curiosity further. Perhaps Templeton wouldn’t be the only one launching an investigation. 

The Altered Boys practiced and explored for a little while but they began to make good on their promises. They pushed some of the barricade materials out of the way and started to clear out a space on what was once a front lawn for the library. Most of it had become overgrown or dried up and the fencing was rusted and rotted. 

Rook went salvaging for new building materials in the attic. There was lots of wood to be had with the disused bookshelves. He went at it like a mad man, they all did despite their slight size. I had no idea where they were able to get their strength and energy from. Cato hovered around him trying to help as best he could. 

“Honestly I’m fine!” Rook called down the elevator shaft. 

Cato was right by the wedged open elevator doors trying to organize what Rook had tossed down. “Gods above! Rook, I’m not useless. I can drag some wood here and there it’s not going to kill me.” 

“I don’t even need help though and if I really did I could ask Beetle or Fla’rue or any of the other boys.” Rook replied. 

“I think I’d be of a bit more use then a bunch of blood starved inexperienced hunters.” Cato shot back. 

“At least their legs work.” Rook said. He hopped down from the attic and sauntered in with a mischievous grin on his face. “And I think I will need their help in the end, if we’re going to build a roof for Swift over this thing and fortify it so that none of the beasts get in we got to only use the strong stuff.” 

“Lot of work for a bloody horse.” Cato huffed. 

“She’s possibly one of the last war horses in England.” Rook said, “A lot of them weren’t lucky enough to be protected and many aren’t half as fast as she is. Do you know of anyone who has one?” 

Cato shook his head. 

“Then she’ll make you seem more important, people are going to have to listen to what Lady Frigga has to say then.” 

Anwen came in from around the corner and started to pick up some of the wood. “I bet she looked pretty impressive.” 

Rook nodded enthusiastically and thanked Anwen for her help. The two of them carried wood outside from one of the cleared away barricades while Cato rolled along behind like an afterthought. 

Cato turned to me, “He’s got a lot of nerve Rook does…him and his stupid pretty eyes.” 

I chuckled, “Pretty?” I asked. 

“Yeah they’re pretty.” Cato growled. “You saying a hunter can’t have pretty eyes and nice hair and stuff?” 

“No no no no I just didn’t mean it’s just I didn’t know that you I mean-“ I stammered. 

Cato gave me an angry glare before breaking into a mischievous smile. He ruffled my hair, and laughed. “Don’t sweat it kid. Just don’t tell him ok? He doesn’t need my kind of trouble.” 

I nodded. I didn’t want to make Cato angry and if he thought Rook was pretty it didn’t make much of a difference to me. The four of us helped carry wood outside for the rest of the day. Larkspur and Beetle were out there with what was undoubtedly the smallest Altered Boy of the pack. He was called Fla’rue, and he was doing all of the odd tasks that need doing like straightening bent nails and sorting wood by length. 

They worked for a little while, it was clear that there weren’t enough resources here to finish the job. We were going to have to find a lumberyard. I wondered if there were any operating in Yharnam; there didn’t appear to be very many trees. A permanent trade route had almost no chance of being established with all of the beasts prowling about at night. Transportation was a dangerous business in the best of times, robbers and highwaymen were plenty trouble enough. 

Neither the Altered Boys nor Frigga seemed particularly concerned about supplies, it was evident when all of the work broke for dinner. It was another big hunter feast but this time the table was much fuller. Someone had set out a blood vial at each of the boys’ places. They shot up and in a little while seemed a little less pale than usual. They attacked whatever food was put in front of them, even the tiny one, Fla’rue, who had to practically leap across the table to grab things. Rook kept strategically putting things within arm’s reach of Cato, who had strategically decided to sit next to Rook. Now that I focused on him Rook did have nice eyes, almond shaped and dark brown. They kept laughing and smiling at each other. 

The dirty blonde one who had been interested in Templeton’s notes before was sitting next to her. She seemed to get more and more irritated with him as dinner wore on and kept trying to make eye contact with Frigga for help. She was deeply absorbed in a conversation with Larkspur. There was a lightness radiating throughout the library and even Imogen who was still wrestling with Scarlett’s disappearance was smiling and laughing even if it wasn’t particularly sincere. 

When we had all eaten as much as we could, which was truly an alarming amount, we stayed around the table. It turned out that little Fla’rue could play a violin and one of the others had a set of reed pipes. Beetle drummed his spoon and knife on the table as though it were a drum. 

Rook’s whole face lit up and he jumped up from his chair. He looked around for a second and then grabbed a hesitant Anwen and hauled her out into the middle of the room. He began to swing her around in a spirited reel smiling and dancing. The dirty blonde one was just about to ask Templeton to dance when she quickly got up and awkwardly pulled Frigga out of her chair. The Altered boys howled and cheered as more of us joined in. I was somehow pulled in by Salem and spun around and around despite the fact that I didn’t know how to dance at all. Cato and those who wouldn’t or couldn’t dance just sat around keeping time with their feet or their hands and watched the dance. 

It turned out Barristan could sing to some degree and after conversing with the musicians found something they both knew. Frigga danced better than them all; quickly tiring out Templeton and moving through every one of the Altered Boys who’d gotten up to dance. When it was established that no one could possibly keep up with her, Fla’rue gave it a go playing his violin as fast as he possibly could. Frigga took the challenge with grace and style spinning so fast you could hardly see her. Fla’rue sawed as fast as he could putting everything he had in it. 

Perhaps it was because Frigga had been dancing the whole night through or maybe the Altered Boy just wanted to prove himself a great deal. Just as the strings on his violin were about to break Frigga stomped her foot and gave an elegant curtsey to the victor. The Altered Boys roared with cheers and applause. They swarmed the little guy pounding him on the back and hoisting him up onto their shoulders in triumph. 

“Come on Fla’rue let’s have one more!” Someone shouted. 

He spoke in the softest and meekest of voices, “I can’t I’m sorry. I think my arm might fall off.” 

There was another good thundering of laughter and after that most of us admitted that we were quite tired. Frigga stressed the need for good lookouts tonight especially with a door to the library being open. Barristan volunteered and so did the dirty blonde boy who we finally learned was called Thistle. Barristan would watch from outside and Thistle would stay within making the occasional round. Secure in the notion that none of us were going to be done away with in our sleep from surprise attack, we headed to the second floor. 

Sleep took longer this time; I kept laying there annoyingly awake thinking about things. I still hadn’t gotten my message to Mallory sent out, but there never seemed to be time. I was worried that we might run out of blood because of all the boys being here but at the same time I really didn’t want them to go home. They were fun to have around. Fun and useful. With their numbers it felt like we were much stronger and the library seemed less empty. 

The next few days passed by in a similar fashion to the first although there weren’t huge feasts since we weren’t going out hunting and we weren’t celebrating anyone’s arrival. Frigga assured us she would meet with some of the Woodland Hunters if they showed up to the meeting about the disappearances, and that we would ask them to get us some wood. They supplied whatever construction business were still left running and were probably our best chance. That meeting was going to happen tomorrow night and we were all eager to see who would attend. 

This was one matter Frigga hadn’t trusted to Templeton to organize. She was going to choose herself and she made it clear that only three of us would be coming with her. Imogen and Cato were both confident in the fact that they were going to be asked to go. Rook had already been chosen and was excited about the opportunity. He and Larkspur took off from construction and spent all day sparring with the twins and Anwen behind the stairs, they were hoping to join the actual hunting party and wanted to sharpen up their skills. Rook had asked for extra blood several times, and I’d seen him shooting up more often than anybody else. 

Frigga came up to me at my perch on the stairs. I liked to watch the action from above. The Altered boys always encouraged me to join in with their practice, but they’d kicked my ass one too many times for me to take them up on that offer again. She tapped me on the shoulder and turned my attention away from the sparring. 

“I want you to be one of the ones to come with me tonight. At communion you didn’t start any fights with anyone and I can’t count on Cato or Imogen to not get overly passionate about this issue.” She explained. “Anwen and Barristan are the other two who I want to come with me.” 

I was astonished. I knew this was supposed to be an honor but it felt like some kind of curse. I didn’t think anyone would take too kindly to the idea of the newbie being asked to something this important ahead of them. “Are you sure you want me to come?” I asked skeptically. 

Frigga nodded, “You haven’t disappointed me yet, though I wish you would practice fighting more. I am worried about your skills suffering, but with any luck Veera will have done her job and the streets will be safe again.” 

“I’ll kind of miss the boys.” I said, “Why don’t you just ask them to join us? I mean you’ve mentioned needing people and all.” 

Frigga laughed lightly, “You’re not the first of my Hunters to bring that up, but they’re just not a good fit for us. They have different priorities and they don’t take loss very well. We’ve got to much bad luck to jinx what they have got going, they haven’t lost a boy yet. We came to their aid one time and lost someone, I can’t ever keep people alive long enough. I’ll never let a volunteer join, only those who have been rescued…well except Cato, he forced his way in.” 

“Yeah they told me about that.” I explained. 

“He’s not really one to listen to reason but he fights like a devil.” She said, “The rest of us all just had a streak of misfortune. They question things, they’re their own people still. So many hunters just become soldiers and a lot of leaders use them as cannon fodder so to speak, before I gained control of this unit things were very bad. I made sure that if I got to be a leader I would do things my own way.” 

“I think I understand.” I replied. 

“I know we need numbers.” She continued, “but the Altered Boys would come to my aid regardless of if they were part of our unit or not.” 

Frigga seemed more forlorn and melancholy the longer she went on. I changed the subject. “If you really would like me to come with you I will. I don’t want to go on the actual hunt though, if there’s going to be mad hunters and hunters of hunters and who knows what else…that’s just not for me. I’m still not comfortable with regular beasts yet.” 

“Thank you Sterling.” Frigga said, “Now go down there and spar with some of our guests. You’ve got to get more comfortable with that axe of yours.” 

“Aye aye.” I sighed descending the staircase. 

I spent the rest of the night getting the shit kicked out of me by enthusiastic Altered Boys. They didn’t ever go easy on me, but the lot of them would cheer loud as anything if I managed to get a swipe in or hook my axe under their legs and sweep them off balance. I was getting better at that. 

There was no big dinner time speech or announcement about who was going to go to the meeting, but I noticed that Cato and Imogen looked rather sullen as did Mouse no doubt rather annoyed at missing two big events. Frigga must have gone around and told everyone privately about things. Templeton was lost to the library still puzzling over the blood mystery. Everyone else was as usual. The Altered Boys didn’t seem to care to much who represented them. I noticed though that many of them passed Rook their blood vials and he accepted every one. I supposed that they may have just wanted him to look stronger and figured he could use the extra blood but he sure had been taking a lot lately. 

The twins were fidgeting at their end of the table. They got up and switched seats with one another periodically. Salem would switch the side of the plate that the forks were put on then lean back and look at them, shake her head and switch them back. Sage must’ve unfolded and refolded both of their napkins a dozen times. 

“Is something wrong, twins?” Barristan asked gruffly. He was sitting next to Sage and had to snatch his silverware back every few moments. 

“Bad predictions.” Sage responded, “Salem did a reading today.” 

Barristan rolled his eyes, “What’s that got to do with the damn dishware?” 

“The cards told me that silver would be our downfall.” Salem replied, “We thought it might be something to do with the cutlery.” 

“It’s got nothing to do with anything.” Barristan responded, “Silver is a good thing for hunters. Our Frigga has got silver hair are you going to make her cut it off? Or how about the bullets for our guns which we infuse - I remind you purposely infuse with quick silver- should we just throw those out?” 

“Peace Barristan.” Anwen said. She was seated next to Salem and had patiently set her goblet back in its place despite several disturbances from wandering hands. 

“We will make sure to be careful around silver in the coming days.” Frigga said tucking her hair up inside of her hunters’ cap. “It never hurts to take precautions. Salem’s been proved right on more than one occasion.” 

“She’s been proved wrong as well.” Barristan muttered. 

“It’s true.” Salem said meekly, “It could be nothing but it was a very bad reading and I wouldn’t be able to feel myself if I didn’t act on it. I know that I can be wrong sometimes but I feel very strongly about this one.” 

Frigga pushed piles of food around her plate and slowly sipped from her goblet. “I am sure there is value in what you have said. We won’t bring any guns or quicksilver bullets with us, no one here uses them as a primary weapon so it won’t be a great loss and we’ll keep our eyes out for any silver based anomalies but that is all the precaution we’ll take, no need to go overboard.” 

This decision satisfied both Barristan and the twins. The silverware was shuffled less often and no one had much else to say. 

When the night of the meeting finally arrived Cato pulled me aside shortly before we were preparing to leave. 

“Keep an eye out for Rook won’t you?” He asked me, “He’s probably going to start some kind of fight that he can’t win to attempt to prove himself. I’ve told him it’s a bad idea and he’s promised he won’t do anything rash but you know how Hunters can be by now.” 

“I don’t think I’d be much good for assistance in a fight.” I admitted. 

“You stood your ground against a cleric beast.” Cato argued, “And I’m not asking you to fight. There may not be reason to. There’s a good chance that Rook will be sensible and not try anything stupid but if he does and if it comes to it will you just speak up, say something to call attention and get them to stop before it gets out of hand.” 

“Sure.” I said, “But Frigga will probably beat me to it considering what she’s done for them previously.” 

“She’s in a bit of a tight spot.” Cato said, “I don’t know if she will be willing to put herself in the middle of things again, but you’ve no reason not to. Even if you do say something a little bit stupid you’re a new Hunter and it will easily be forgiven and forgotten. You’ve no need to worry.” 

“I’ll do my best.” I assured him.


	7. Chapter the Seventh : In Which we Bare Witness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A beast?! At our communion?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always please let me know what you think!

We set out before dinner, and navigated the murky tunnel system. I thought it rather strange that I was starting to know the sewers of Yharnam better than the streets. Locks clicked, gates opened and we all came through. Rook and Larkspur went through first both of them had painted fresh crosses on their chests and took great care to keep themselves from dipping into the water too far lest the marks wash off. 

We must have arrived fairly early, there were only one or two other Hunters that were in the great cavernous church, Abbot Minimus being one and a church hunter with curly blonde hair called Alfred. Alfred turned away from us when he saw the pale bodies of the Altered Boys, but Minimus gazed at us until we all bowed, a salute which he then returned. 

“You’re early.” He commented. 

“I wanted to be able to see everyone else who was joining us.” Frigga replied, “last time we were not so early and I didn’t have much time to mingle.” 

“I see.” Minimus said. “I’m afraid it’s just me and Alfred at the moment.” 

At the mention of his name the church hunter turned round. He bowed to us in the stiff and stoic manner that all church hunters did and we returned it. “Lady Frigga it is good to see you participating in the hunting community once more. I never got the chance to speak with you or your new Hunter last time.” 

He turned to me and grinned. It caught me off guard slightly, I’d expected someone much more like Sister Veera who I could never see smiling in a genuine way only in mockery or malice but Alfred’s grin had none of this. It was warm and inviting. 

“I’m Sterling.” I said, “Nice to meet you.” 

“I’ve already been introduced I believe but it’s lovely to meet you Sterling. You must have a few good stories by now, when I’m done helping Abbot Minimus set up things we’ll have a chat, yes?” 

I nodded, “Yes.” 

“Splendid.” He said, and then turned to the Altered Boys, and with a contemptuous tone began, “I think they need some help in the kitchens if you two intend on making yourselves useful.” 

The change was an instant one. He held no respect for them; not bothering to learn their names or greet them. Perhaps he had known their names but he chose not to use them. In any case the Altered Boys took no notice of it but began to leap and bound across the pews Rook and Larkspur both trying to be the first to reach the kitchens on the other side. Minimus shook his head at them. 

Alfred put an arm around my shoulders and led me towards the center of the room where each Hunter stood when they wanted to talk. The bowl was still there in the center, full of the glimmering silver coins. 

“If you wish to help us you could count these out for me, into piles of five and bring them over to the table at the main entrance.” Alfred said. 

Before I could respond Anwen came up to me, “Sorry Alfred but we need to talk to him.” 

Alfred paused and cocked his head to the side in irritation but it faded and he smiled again and said “Of course.” He spun on his heels, black leather boots that came up to his knees, and stalked back towards the Abbot. 

“Silver.” Anwen said in way of explanation kicking the bowl of coins with her foot before leading me back to the others. She, unlike Barristan ,took the twins at their word. 

“You’ve got to be careful around Alfred.” Barristan said when I’d joined them. “He’s a tricky one.” 

“He seems nice enough.” I countered, “So long as you’re not one of the Altered Boys. I don’t imagine they have many fans in the church.” 

“Fans or not being asked to go help in the kitchen is an insult to the leaders of a group of Hunters. If he had told you or me no big deal but if he’d have said that to Frigga, told her to go scrub pots and pans then we’d have gone to war right then and there cut the pious bastard down to size.” Barristan retaliated. 

“Dishes would be a silly thing to start a war over.” Anwen said. 

Barristan had no quip for that and we stood huddled about in silence. I decided to break it. 

“Anwen said that you needed to talk about something with me.” 

Frigga chuckled, “No we didn’t at all Sterling. She only said that to get you away from the coins since we’re supposed to keep our guard up around silver. One of us is going to have to touch the coins at some point.” 

“Bloody hell I’ll do it then.” Barristan snarled, “If you’re all so keen to believe a bunch of cryptic mumbo jumbo then I’ll face the oh-so-scary silver; which we’ve only handled dozens and dozens of times before, so clearly the terror is warranted.” 

Anwen reached over her shoulder for the handle of her kirkhammer. I worried weather Rook was really the one I should’ve been concerned about having to intervene for in a combat situation. Frigga gave them a cold glare and the tension relented. She was in no mood to have a repeat of last communion. 

The Hunters all began to file in, in much smaller groups now than when they came to communion. Fwahe the one who wore the dead cleric beast bounded over to us the moment that she had arrived. 

She turned to me and I noticed that her eyes were two different colors which furthered the zany appearance of this particular hunter. “Nice to see you again.” 

“Same.” I said a little caught off guard. I couldn’t adjust to her clip, the pace at which she jumped from person to person and topic to topic in a conversation. I smiled and nodded my way through the next few minutes as she conversed with all of us. 

Rook and Larkspur returned to us shortly thereafter once again taking the most inconvenient path and deftly leaping over whatever got in their way. They’d both removed their vests and were carrying them bunched up like sacks in their hands. Larkspur grinned when he met us and Rook tried to speak but began panting heavily and trying to catch his breath. 

“Cook about killed us.” Larkspur said speaking for the both of them, “We always throw the knives back wherever their supposed to go, we’re good at throwing but he didn’t much like that. He was comin’ at us with a Cleaver last I saw though we didn’t stop to get a very good look.” 

“Gotcha…these..though..Miss Frigga.” Rook said unwrapping his bundle and producing the enticing aroma of pastry and warm vegetables. He passed around the tiny pies, one for each of us and they were so hot they scalded your fingertips but inside there was onions and gravy. Rosemary had been baked into the crust and the taste was worth burning your skin for. 

“Where’s your boyfriend got to?” Fwahe asked Rook as she licked residual gravy off her fingertips. 

Rook’s face turned as red as our burnt hands. “Dunno what…you’re…talking about.” 

He was still panting though it was long since he should’ve recovered from the short sprint to us. 

“I think you ought to sit down, Rook.” Anwen advised sensibly. 

He shook his head. “I’m…I’m ..” 

His throat was making gurgling noises and he was having trouble speaking. He doubled over and I thought he was going to barf or something. Larkspur’s eyes widened and he kept trying to ask Rook what was wrong. 

Once again all eyes in the room turned towards our group and Hunters began to crowd in. The noises Rook was making were ugly horrible coughing and wheezing sounds. Barristan thought he might be choking on something and wanted to force it out but didn’t know how. Anwen moved him aside and picked up Rook like he didn’t weigh a thing. She locked her fists together and pounded Rook’s abdomen several times but it was quickly determined that choking was not the cause. 

“His skins burning.” Anwen said when she stepped away. 

“The blood..” I muttered and then said more loudly “How much blood has he had today?” 

“We gave him one of our vials same as the rest.” Barristan replied, “I handed them out myself.” 

“Yes I know that but I’ve seen other people giving him blood.” 

“Everybody stand back!” Sister Veera shouted appearing on the scene and parting the crowd easily, “He’s going to turn.” 

“Turn?” I asked 

“He’s taken too much beasts blood.” Fwahe said hand going to her weapon, “He’s going to become one of them.” 

I’d never regretted a promise more than the one I’d made to Cato. 

Sister Veera’s orders were complied with quickly and soon she had a large circle to herself and Rook. New hunters came in and joined the crowd as she felt his forehead and listened to his strange breathing. “We can purge him.” She said. 

Larkspur jumped forward “Purge him? Purge him! You’ll kill him! You can’t!” 

Two of the sisters’ followers jumped forward and restrained Larkspur. 

“It’s the only way to keep him from turning.” She took out a knife and opened one of his veins blood gushing out of the wound. Larkspur squirmed in his captor’s grasp unable to help his companion. I too wanted to surge forward and stop her but Anwen’s hand tense around my shoulder. 

“She’s not killing him.” Anwen said, “She’s going to drain the beasts blood and replace it.” 

Other church hunters came forward and they worked together without speaking. Alfred was among them. Veera place a needle in a vein on the opposite side of Rook’s body. It branched out much like the kind of thing we used to fill blood vials only this needle had many more tubes and branches then ours did. Church hunters rolled up their wrists and leant their blood to the infected Altered Boy chanting and praying all the while. Abbot Minimus watched from the crowd as we did. 

“Is it going to work?” I asked Anwen. 

“It never has before, the infected one almost always dies or turns. Blood addiction is extremely dangerous and so is the purging process but the church has sworn to try it on every occasion. They believe if it’s caught early enough it is the only true cure to the curse.” 

“They are going to kill him, let me go!” I implored her. She held me firm. 

“We all had to agree to let them do this. It’s part of being a community. We cannot interfere.” 

I was burning up with the unfairness of it all horrified with the knowledge that the best I could do was stand and watch. No one but the church hunters were able to sit and give blood though many offered. 

Rook’s pretty eyes had closed, lashes interlocking together. The infected blood that came out of him ran through the cobblestones and fresh devoted church converts sopped it up with white cotton rags when it came to close to leaving the circle. They wore thick leather gloves that prevented the blood from getting on their hands. Rook’s body was as white as the fresh cloths. The cross on his body was like a black hole, contrast so stark it made you want to avert your eyes and I tried not to focus on the spot where the two colors met. 

“Everybody please let us turn back to the matter at hand.” Minimus said after a time. There weren’t any significant changes in Rook’s condition and we had stood there for a considerable time. “The church hunters are doing all they can for the boy and we’re not helping by breathing down their necks.” 

Many of the younger hunters began to drift off following Minimus away from the crowd. Larkspur’s feet were planted and I was sure that Minimus knew he was a lost cause. There was no chance of him leaving his brother at arms. Many others too stood their ground. 

“Listen to him.” Sister Veera barked 

More of them turned and went away when she told them too. They left in packs now group by group each one turning to their leaders before going away. We all looked to Frigga. Her cane was out before her and she rested both hands on it staring straight ahead and watching the church hunters every movement. She was standing steady and showed no signs of leaving. 

The Abbot kept asking people to come away, calling them by name and it was working. They began to drift off. Minimus knew the names of everyone. The crowd was gone now, seated patient and respectful in the pews. It was a much smaller group then had been at communion, full communion there would never be enough seats. 

“We need to know what Abbot Minimus is going to say.” Anwen said to Frigga. 

Our group and some other large church based ones were the only ones left, and we were of course the odd men out. 

“I don’t trust Sister Veera.” Frigga said. Her voice was strained and her arms shook as she spoke. The cane wobbled slightly. 

“The Abbot makes the call for all of the hunters. He’s our leader and we can’t ignore his orders without consequence.” 

Frigga gave a curt nod, turned on her heel and strode to the pews. She did not hold her head high or straighten her back. There was no more confidence in her steps. I was the last of our group to leave. I didn’t want to tear my eyes away from Rook. 

Abbot Minimus waited for all of us to be seated. I felt sick to my stomach and didn’t catch a word of his opening speech. I didn’t think it really mattered, the Abbot could’ve solved all of the disappearances right then and there and still no one would be talking about anything except Rook. 

He was interrupted by a thin group of woodland hunters. The one who spoke was called Avans and she had a hunters cap in the tattered ear tricorn style with small deer antlers tucked in along the folds. 

“Abbot Minimus please you’ve got to dismiss the Altered Boys now more than ever. We are blood starved out in the woods, we can’t get enough ourselves and that boy had overdosed. Me and my brothers and sisters live on a fourth of a vial every three days. We are sick and we can’t fight as we used too but have come to lend our aid all the same.” 

“That is not what we are here to talk about.” Abbot Minimus said. 

“They will not be dismissed.” Frigga said slamming her cane into the cobblestones. “That boy got his brains addled on my watch, and many of us have suffered from blood addiction. I didn’t see it happen. They were staying at our headquarters and the blood they took was ours so if you’re going to campaign for a dismissal make it mine.” Silence crackled through the room like thunder, invisible oppressive and incredibly loud. 

“Fine, what have you done for the Hunters lately but lead them to their deaths when your back was turned?” Avans shot back. 

Another thunderclap of silence as Frigga’s eyes widened in shock and surprise. She collected herself and replied, “I seem to recall brining the most blood vials amongst any group of you on a consistent basis. It was by my hand, Avans, that your clan didn’t go mad from blood starvation. The fourth vials that sustain you were from my hunters. Alfie died so that you might live as did Atlee and Edin, Sommers and Coalburn, and all of the rest of my Valkyries long gone from here.” 

This silenced Avans well enough but it did little for the others. Many of them spoke up voicing their complaints or support in an unintelligible cacophony. Abbot Minimus tried to regain control but this was beyond his ability and no voice was loud enough to cause the others to stop and listen to him. 

The clanging of the church bells’ peal rang out over our voices. It was Alfred who was hauling on the rope desperate for the confusion to be ended. 

“This is no way for us to speak to our sister!” He shouted. “Lady Frigga has sacrificed more than many are even aware of, and she tells no lies about the blood she brings. Any of you would store it for the next time your own stores ran thin but she hasn’t hoarded a drop of the stuff.” 

Abbot Minimus now seeing his chance to regain control walked up to Alfred and put a hand on his shoulder. 

“What our brother Alfred says is true, but I will not take the testimony of one against the voices of all of you. If this is a matter that you are all so passionate about and someone truly wishes to testify against our sister Frigga then let them come forward and speak their piece.” 

The moment following the end of his sentence was tense. Barristan, Anwen and myself scanned the crowd with eyes alert ready to stare down any person who might have actually had the nerve to come forward. We waited and watched but no one made a move. 

“Very well then.” Abbot Minimus said, “It seems at last that our quarrels have been settled.” 

Before satisfying silence could fall over the crowd and verify his statement an agonized cry rang out from the back of the church and out heads whirled around to Sister Veera and Rook. Rook was standing now, upright on his two feet in a pile of his own blood that he’d been drained of. The fingers of his hands had grown into gnarled claws and he gazed down at them with an expression of disgust so terrible we instantly knew that the cry had to have come from his own lips. 

“He’s turning!” Sister Veera shouted. Many of the church hunters leapt back but she stood her ground and pulled two hooked twin blades from her robe. 

“No…please don’t do this!” Rook cried, “I’m not going to hurt anything please!” 

“No beast has control once they turn.” Sister Veera spat. 

Larkspur, no longer closely guarded vaulted to his brothers side and held his spear at the ready. 

“Don’t die for a lost cause.” She said to Larkspur. 

His grip tightened on his spear but nothing could hide the fear on his face. He was shaking all over. “He’s still got his wits.” Larkspur said though his voice quivered. 

I’d made a promise. I leapt over the back of the pew and came to Larkspur’s aid pulling my axe out of its holster. Veera’s eyes flashed in surprise. “You too newblood?” 

“I made a promise.” I said through gritted teeth. 

Minimus himself strode down the aisle after me wielding the enormous scythe. “Stand aside boys.” 

“It’s not spreading!” Larkspur pleaded, “Look it him it’s only his hands please Sir Abbot don’t kill him!” 

Now I had no idea of the transformation rate of a turning Hunter but the Abbot paused to take a look at Rook’s hands. The only part that had transformed was his fingers. 

“Can you explain this Sister?” He asked turning to Veera, “Could this be a result of the purge, is he cured or is it just some kind of a delay?” 

“The blood in those parts is bound to infect the rest of him.” She said, “We cannot prevent the spreading of bad blood.” 

Minimus nodded. “Hold out your hands, boy.” He said. Rook complied. 

With an expert swing of the razor sharp scythe blade he cut off Rook’s claws. It happened so fast that I only realized they were gone when I heard one of the loosed digits bounce on the cobblestones. “Take him to the kitchen, find something hot and close the wounds. We’ll keep him under a close watch. It seems sister like your good church’s’ work may have finally paid off. Perhaps there is hope for your methods yet.” 

The church hunters hurried away with the shell-shocked boy between them. Minimus wiped the blade of his scythe off with the hem of his robe. “Is that all?” Abbot Minimus asked turning to the crowd of Hunters before him. 

We stood silent not understanding what he meant. My gaze wandered everywhere, there were so many horrific things surrounding me that I couldn’t stand to focus on any of them. The metallic smell of blood was heavy in the air making us all feel dizzy and sick. 

Our silence seemed only to anger the great Hunter further, “Is that all? Tonight we have witnessed the curing of a diseased one. This means our great hunt may finally be coming to a close and you just stand there?” 

One of the city hunters, called Gaines who had spoken sensibly at communion and worked to solve problems instead of adding to the tension spoke, “This is not a cure Abbot. What if his head had started to go before his hands, would you cut that off too and call it cured? Strange things are happening because of blood withdrawals and then overdoses, that’s all that’s happened with this boy. He probably didn’t have enough blood in him for a full conversion and now we’ve maimed one of our own.” 

“Hardly our own.” Avans muttered. 

“What would you have me do then?” Abbot Minimus asked 

“I would have you run a meeting as you ought to instead of letting spectacles like this overshadow the real matter at hand. That Altered Boy could’ve been moved to another room and dealt with their if our dear Sister Veera had only stayed her hand a moment and we could’ve continued without much trouble but you pour your hope into these religious notions and blood ministrations as though they will actually help.” 

“The work of the church-“Alfred began 

He was cut off by Gaines who was not at all finished talking, “The work of the church is no more important than the work of anyone else. It wasn’t the church who figured out that we needed to take beasts blood in order to keep from dying. That was Elder Gerham who brought us knowledge from afar. It was not the church who cleared out this place for our meetings, nor was it the church who put you in charge and yet their opinion weighs on your mind and tips the scales for everyone.” 

“Are you finished Sir Gaines?” Alfred asked. 

“No I don’t think I am but I better not speak my mind anymore lest someone out there campaign for my dismissal as well.” 

“It sounds, Lord Gaines Hunter of Hunters as though you feel I am not fit for my position.” Abbot Minimus concluded. 

“You are correct.” Gaines replied, “And to be honest when it came time for the choosing I did not vote for you. My seers saw corruption in your future.” 

“Let’s not start a fight when one is not needed.” Frigga said confidence making a swift return to her voice. “Tensions are high and all of this is a matter to be dealt with at a proper communion since many groups are not here to voice their input. Abbot Minimus will you tell us what you’ve discovered about these disappearances?” 

Abbot Minimus nodded gratefully too her and a sense of order returned to the room. It was pierced by the occasional pained cry from the kitchen. Cauterizing wounds was a nasty business. The Abbot ignored it as best he could and spoke to us all. 

“The facts we’ve found out our as follows, and we have gotten them from dozens if not hundreds of interviews that me and my trusted advisors have conducted over the past few days. We’ve learned as much as could be hoped and believe that we have discovered where the missing Hunters are.” 

Abbot Minimus had made his way up to the front podium and removed a scroll of paper that he had placed there earlier. He unrolled it and we saw that it was a map of England. I thought at first that a small horde of bugs had been crawling around on the map, it was covered in tiny black dots some in large clusters and others spread out over a fair distance. I realized, thankfully before I said anything stupid that those must have been markings for all the vanished Hunters. It was alarming to see it represented in a visual format just how many people had been stolen away. 

This was only the Hunters who were marked. I was sure the Abbot and many of the Hunters knew that there were others, non-hunters who had been taken. 

“As you can see the reach of these people is far, they have covered all of England and there have been unconfirmed reports of their reach stretching beyond our borders and across the Soured Sea, but at this time we can’t concern ourselves with that.” 

“Wish he’d get to the bloody facts already.” Barristan muttered. 

We were all losing our patience, and the elegant phrasings or fancy speeches that had been quite something to behold when given at communion did not have their place here. Still I wouldn’t mind, personally knowing the scope and reach of the thing whatever or whoever it was that kept taking people. If there was a place that was safe perhaps we would need to migrate there in small groups one day. 

“A lot of the information we received was of no use to us.” Minimus continued, “Many Hunters do not remember key details or have overlooked things we later discovered to be significant. In almost every account that we were able to glean information from there were carriages at the scenes of disappearance. Many were searched by the Hunters, and it is not uncommon for them to be abandoned along the roads or streets but there were woodland Hunters who had mentioned seeing them.” 

“Bloody hell if there wasn’t one by the clinic.” Barristan whispered to me. 

“These carriages were scavenged and searched and all but torn apart but no one was found. The next day they would be gone but of course that is not unusual as one assumes that once the night is over the owner presumably returns to their vehicle and carries on with their business. I believe that the Hunters were later brought back to these carriages and stolen away in them. That means they’re being kept someplace temporary between the moment they disappear and then there on to another location.” 

Abbot Minimus waved his hand at the crowd and on cue a scrawny little hunter came forward. He was like Mouse, unfortunately young to have been turned but he clearly belonged to Minimus’ pack since they were dressed in a similar fashion. The boy was carrying a large book with him and he introduced himself to us as Frances. 

Frances read a few of the interviews that he had copied down as they happened. One of them had a vivid description of a carriage with a shining silver emblem depicting two eagles, possibly two gryphons rampant and facing opposite directions. 

“That as we all know-“ Minimus said cutting in and sending Frances back to his seat, “Is the emblem of Castle Cainhurst.” 

“Cainhurst is full of those filthy Vilebloods.” Alfred said, “If they’re being taken there, there’s nothing we can do to save them.” 

“Your own patron Martyr Logarius went in to clear Cainhurst of them and never came out.” Minimus agreed, “But we cannot live in fear of Vilebloods if it means that they are going to steal our brothers and sisters out from under us.” 

“And pushing them out of their territory is going to help?” Fwahe asked loudly. 

“It’s not their territory it’s their quarantine.” Alfred replied, “They don’t own it.” 

“Neither do we.” She said, “But they’ve established themselves there and for a while it was that they only hunted what was in Cainhurst or around it.” 

“Exactly.” Minimus said, “The Vilebloods must have exhausted their food source there, and have taken to the streets snatching up whatever they can to eat or convert to their barbaric ways. This is why we propose an all-out war on Cainhurst Castle. We will bring together a war party of the strongest Hunters among us: trackers, healers, fighters, the arcane and the quick witted as well as the strong and formidable. We will attack the castle with all our might and eliminate every Vileblood we come across.” 

Cheers rang out through the church. People hefted their weapons into the air and raised them in support. Minimus smiled from his podium glad to have his army back. 

“Brothers and Sisters we will need to find the strongest and sharpest amongst us to go, and time is of the essence. The next few days my advisors and I are going to gather all the resources we can. It has been hard times dark and depressing for us Hunters but this opportunity comes in like a ray of light. It is a time when our prowess and skill can be put on full display, I’ve talked with the daytime denizens and I propose we hold a tournament, in the daylight where all can see the skill of the Hunters to which they’ve trusted their lives. Any hunter young, old, or otherwise is able to compete, the only pre-requisite is membership in our group which you yourselves have already achieved. In seven days’ time and this will be after our next communion the event will take place and it will be a rare time of celebration and happiness before we set out to slay our foes.” 

The cheers were deafening, and I was caught up in the thrill of it all too. I’d been to one or two events like these in my time, not with Hunters mind you but swordsmen or archers having a squabble would set to making a big deal of things and it was always worth watching. The whole town would come out for it and there was lots of fun and mischief to be had. 

It felt almost wrong though to be cheering and excited after what we just witnessed but it spoke to the Abbot’s power of crowd maintenance. Fwahe was amongst few who were not cheering, smiling or showing some indication that they were pleased. 

Minimus shared a few more details and some minor concerns were expressed and dealt with swiftly but by and large the harrowing meeting was over. We waited around for a good while until most of the others had gone. Barristan paced to and fro anxiously. Larkspur drummed his fingers on a table. 

“What are you still doing here?” Abbot Minimus asked us, “You were amongst the first to arrive surely you had a right to be amongst the first to leave.” 

“We’re waiting for Rook.” Larkspur said. 

“He won’t be returning with you.” Minimus informed us, “We need to keep him under observation.” 

“With all due respect Sir Abbot,” Larkspur said grip tightening on the table and lips curling up towards a snarl, “That’s not your decision to make.” 

“I have to agree.” I said, “Rook’s still in his right mind and he’s got his senses. There’s no way he’s unfit to make the choice for himself.” 

“Exactly.” Abbot Minimus said, “Sister Veera told me he’s consented to taking a stay with her church group. He mentioned something about not wanting Cato to see him like this.” 

“Well he can say it to my face then.” Larkspur argued 

“I’m sorry but the sisters have already gone back to their cloister. You must have missed them; they don’t always use the main exit you know.” 

“Well let’s be off then.” Barristan said, “This night is getting far too long for my liking, let’s not have the others worrying about us.” 

We went back through the sewers none of us speaking a word. Most of our group was awake and waiting for us when we got back but Frigga pushed past them all and headed for the stairs to her room. I wanted to follow suit but Cato grabbed my arm tightly before I could disappear into the safety of my own space. 

He scanned the lot of us and saw that Rook was not amongst them. “Where is he? What happened?!” 

“Cato please I’m tired.” I said trying to yank my arm free but his grip was strong, viselike, crushing. 

“Tell me what the hell happened right now Sterling or so help me Gods I will bash your head in.” Cato said and the seriousness in his tone assured me he meant every word. 

“Rook started to turn Cato.” I said with a sigh, “You all gave him too much blood!” I yelled at the Altered Boys. 

“What do you…m…no…” Cato stammered 

“The church purged him and his…his fingers turned into claws but nothing else….they wanted to kill him and banish all of the boys…someone even talked about kicking Frigga out.” I said trying to recall the events in their exactly chronology but it was difficult. “There was so much blood everywhere and I thought he was dead he was so white...like a sheet. He was back up though soon the purging worked but his claws wouldn’t fade and Veera said the blood would spread.” 

A few of them nodded their heads in understanding. 

“Minimus was angry he was losing control of things so he just came over and he cut his fingers off.” 

I made a slicing motion with my hand. 

“Right like that and they just fell and then he said that it was like a miracle and that the curse was cured and shit and the sisters took him away into the kitchen to close the wounds. We waited but he didn’t return to the meeting. I mean I thought that was ok like he needed time to recover a bit and all, but then we waited after it was over and Minimus said he’d decided to stay under the sisters’ care for a while and stuff so they could like watch him and make sure he was ok.” 

“Blood starved idiot.” Cato whimpered a horrible hitch in his voice that upped the pitch of his words and made it clear he was fighting back tears. He let go of my hand and I sprinted for the stairs. I couldn’t be around them. I couldn’t look at Cato I didn’t want to see it; I didn’t want to see any of this. 

I had to get away from all of them, I felt like staying here was choking the life and sanity out of me slowly, bit by bit. I slammed the door to my study room and sat on the floor underneath the hammock staring into the darkness. I didn’t bother to light the lamp, and I knew in a distant sort of way that the room was cold but I didn’t feel it. I didn’t feel anything but the horrible twisting sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, guilt and terror and excitement all mixed together in a stupefying puzzle whose pieces refused to fit themselves together. In that instant or for that hour, I lost my grip on time completely, I hated Yharnam. I hated everything that had been thrown at me the past few days, and I longed for the familiar comforts of the streets I used to live on. 

Time passed and I grew uncomfortable. I didn’t really want to talk to anyone, but I didn’t want to be alone and cold anymore either. Now seemed like as good a time as any to go and find Templeton and get that letter out to Mallory. In some coded way I could tell her where I was, and maybe she could come to the tournament and I could be rejoined with someone who was above all this madness. I didn’t figure she’d ever cut off anyone’s fingers. 

I didn’t bother to change clothes, they still carried the smell of incense and blood from the church but changing felt like a monumental task that was impossible to even want to accomplish. Wool socks slid on the hardwood floor, boots seemed too difficult as well. 

I looked out over the railing before I went downstairs. People were up, and I suppose no one had come to get me. The un-barricaded door was open and you could feel the whole library shiver in the cold gusts of wind. The Altered Boys were still at their work despite losing a man and having almost no lumber left. They didn’t bicker amongst themselves or cavort and fool around though. They grimly trudged into the freezing cold. 

Someone had started the big fire which did it’s best to stave off the chill. Mouse and Imogen were sitting on the hearth and she was reading to him. Off in one of the back corners of the maze of bookshelves, I spied a small lamplight which I was sure was Templeton. Slipping down the stairs in my socks I headed towards it. Navigating the shelves was a bit of a task but I soon found her. Barristan was there as well fidgeting in his chair as he did his best to summarize the events of last night all the while playing with one of his knives; stabbing it into the desk between his fingers and then back, then to the gap between the next two fingers. He did this with amazing speed and more so out of habit then as a showing of skill. 

Templeton’s hands were stained with ink and so were the sleeves of her shirt. Her glasses would slide to the end of her nose and she’d push them back up again leaving two distinct black ink smudges on the filthy glass lenses. You could tell she hadn’t slept in a while, but she was transcribing Barristan’s account with an unnatural amount of energy. Piles of paper covered the desk and floor around her. Templeton seemed like a very particular bird constructing a nest, and taking only the most premium sticks and twigs she could find with her. 

“And so then- Oh, good morning Sterling.” Barristan said once I came into view 

“Good..morning…St-oh.” Templeton muttered as she accidently copied down Barristan’s greeting to me. She sighed and scratched it out with her quill before turning and saying good morning in a genuine way. 

“Hello.” I said because calling this morning good felt like some kind of sick joke. 

Templeton tapped the tip of her quill against the paper. “So..uh..what brings you back here this morning..I’m sure they’ve made breakfast by now maybe…” 

“It’s alright, I’m not really hungry to be honest with you.” I said, “I just wanted to get a message to Mallory. Frigga said you could help me with one before.” 

“Right right of course.” Templeton said nodding her head enthusiastically, “Only Barristan was right in the middle of-“ 

“Don’t worry about it Temp.” Barristan said putting his knife back in its place on his belt, “We’ll just finish some other time. I was nearly done in any case.” 

He got up from the table and headed back the way that I’d come. I took his spot and told Templeton all the things I wanted to get in the letter, about staying in at night and avoiding all carriages if it could be helped. I wanted to tell her about the Hunters, she was sure to like them if she’d met them especially since she liked girls the way Cato liked boys and might be happy to know that there were other people out there that were somewhat like her; provided Rook was still out there and I seriously hoped he was. I wanted to but I didn’t. I didn’t end up trying to tell her about the tournament. If she was smart she might be able to put two and two together but I didn’t want to mention it. If she came to the thing and found me it would be a great surprise for the both of us, and the chances of a good surprise happening seemed to be slipping away faster than sand through an hourglass. 

When it was all said and done, (Templeton could write almost as fast as a person could talk), she had me put my mark on it. I’d never even learned so far as my name so I just made an X and we sealed it and called it a day. She said that she’d get it back to Mallory just as soon as she could. 

That bit of business had been settled, but I stayed at the table awhile not wanting to leave. Templeton shifted about in her seat. I knew she wanted me to leave so she could get back to her work, but I was so tired still and the chair was a comfortable one. 

“Do you think Rook’s going to be alright?” I asked. 

“No.” Templeton said immediately, then quickly “I mean he lost his fingers, and I’d be all of useless without mine. I couldn’t hold a quill.” 

“Yes, but I don’t imagine the Altered Boys spent a lot of their time writing.” I remarked 

“All the same it will be kind of difficult for him if he does come back.” Templeton said, “But the Boys seem very close with one another, I don’t think it would be anything like regular animals where the weakest is let fall by the wayside.” 

“Couldn’t his fingers grow back?” I asked. 

Templeton chuckled. “What gives you the idea that that’s possible?” 

“Dunno.” I said. 

“No, Sterling, they’re not going to grow back. He should consider himself lucky, it could’ve been a lot worse. Most people when they turn…“She paused mid-sentence and glanced down at the floor. Spotting a particular tome she dragged it closer with her foot, and then leaned down and got her fingers round it before pulling it up and putting it down on top of her other work. She thumbed through a few pages and then held out some drawings to me. “-they start with the faces.” 

There were more of Templeton’s crude and stiff drawings depicted a man grabbing at his nose in one and then gasping in horror when a snout had sprung from it in the next. They were cartoonish in a way and not entirely unlike the drawings I’d found in some of the bibles at South End Church every now and again. It was the kind of thing drawn with the skill of a bored schoolchild - with dramatic oversized frowns, large eyeballs and bodies made of a few single lines. 

“He could’ve been beheaded.” Templeton said. “There is a real possibility that that might have happened.” 

“Why did it start with his hands then do you think?” I asked. 

She shrugged, “I’m not sure. I haven’t had time to look into it since I’ve been getting down stories half the night. Anwen finished hers, and Larkspur spent a good long time with his. I’ll have to get Frigga’s some other time. She hasn’t come down from her room. We sent Mouse to ask her to breakfast, almost no one can refuse him if he sets his mind to getting something done, but she didn’t come down.” 

Templeton scratched the back of her neck and turned away from my gaze. Her cheeks turned red and she added, “I worry about her sometimes you know.” 

“I think you all do.” I said in my best attempt to comfort her. 

She shook on her stool a little bit, and when she spoke again her voice quivered like Cato’s had the night before. It was painful to listen to, it stabbed at your heart. “She blames herself for all of it, Sterling, and it’s not her fault. She blames herself but it was me you know. If I hadn’t changed up the groups Alfie and Scarlett might still be here, and if I hadn’t dropped my book Atlee wouldn’t have gone back for it and she wouldn’t have…” 

Templeton started to cry. I had zero experience with crying girls, and I sat there petrified with no idea what to say. How could someone who shot a deranged crow without a moment’s hesitation seem so small all of a sudden. 

“Alfie wasn’t your fault.” I tried. 

Templeton shoved her chair away from the table and scurried off into the stacks; covering her teary eyes with her ink stained sleeve. Papers fluttered about in the gust of her leaving. She must just want to be alone for a while too. 

Mouse was going to be nauseatingly happy. Young ones seemed to always forget the scope of terrible things that had befallen them the previous day when the next morning came. I had no desire to snap at him, so I just avoided the big fire despite its enticing warmth. Breakfast never happened. 

I spent the remainder of the day up in the third floor attic where I figured no one would come looking for me. It held painful memories of Rook scurrying about and pulling out useful bits of wood but it was the only place in the whole library that I was sure Cato wouldn’t be able to come and talk to me. I just couldn’t stand him right now; couldn’t stand any of them. They were warriors, damn it! So why did they have to have hearts too?


	8. Chapter the Eighth : In Which we Make a New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sterling has a very helpful conversation with one of the Altered Boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always please let me know what you think!

All alone in the dusty confines of the attic I waited out the day until my appetite came back; around the time we all usually went to bed. I left my hiding spot and went for the kitchen. Piles of dishes were everywhere, silver service gleaming in the dim firelight. There were platters still stacked with uneaten breakfast and uneaten dinner. 

I grabbed an orange and peeled it, throwing the rind into the fire. I ate a piece or two before tossing the rest of it over my shoulder and into the embers as well. It tasted like ash in my mouth despite being unseasonably ripe and juicy. It wasn’t the orange that was the problem. 

“You shouldn’t waste food like that.” 

I whirled around to find the source of the tiny voice. It belonged to Fla’rue the smallest of the Altered Boys, but no longer the least cut out for fighting. He was sitting by the fire but I hadn’t noticed him, blocked in my line of sight by a large cauldron. 

“I know.” I said, “But I’m not the only one.” 

Fla’rue scooted towards the light of the fire and I saw him better. He was shivering and his body had a blue tint to it, as did his lips. “I…I know..no one really ate anything tonight.” 

“How long were you outside?” I asked 

“Walls got to be built.” He said back weakly. “Rook woulda wanted it.” 

I came over closer to him and got a better look. He was half frozen, and it was no wonder. An open vest didn’t do much against the cold. “Fucking hell man! You’re like a block of ice.” 

“It’s no big deal.” He said teeth chattering. “Cathedral Ward was cold like this too. Old Lady Daniels liked the cold, and she kept all the doors open at night. We got used to it I’m ok.” 

I looked around for something to wrap him up in. Beyond a kitchen towel there was nothing of substance to be had. 

“Wait right here,” I said and ran over to the twins’ clothes closet. I found a thick winter coat and brought it back to him; wrapping it around his shoulders and fastening the clasp for him. I was tired of people dying. “You’ve got to keep yourself warm, how else are you going to play the violin? Can’t do that if your fingers…erm…fall off.” 

“They said it was a sin to play so well.” Fla’rue said weakly. “When we were back in the church they said it was a sin. They scare me all the church hunters, I didn’t want to leave with the others. I was terrified what would happen if we got caught. I’ve been scared for so long that they’d get me again, but now they have Rook instead.” 

“Rook wanted to stay with them.” I said unsure if it was a lie or not, “He made the choice you know.” 

“That’s not Rook.” Fla’rue insisted, “I was always the one who wanted to turn back when it got cold or we lost someone in a beast attack. I wanted to go back because even if they beat us back there or made us copy out verses until our hands bled at least they wouldn’t kill us, but Rook wouldn’t hear of it. He told me it was better to die on your feet then live on your knees. Saying stuff like that was a sin too, and I remember he got scarred up real bad when the priests caught him saying it one time.” 

Fla’rue stopped and sneezed a few times; blowing his nose in one of the kitchen towels. I sat down next to him and put my arm awkwardly around his bony shoulders. This story hurt, I didn’t like thinking about all of it but I had to keep Fla’rue awake. I know that people tended to die if they went to sleep too cold like he was. Seen it happen to plenty of street kids before. 

“They hated Rook, and Larkspur too. They hated all of us I think, but sometimes they said it was just their way of trying to help us all the yelling and stuff like that. We’d all been orphans before so, I mean I don’t think anyone really loved us. I think all of us were orphans, it’s hard to remember. Rook hated it, being adopted I mean. Feeling like someone pitied him like a dog or something and took him in because of it. That’s why we all got names like this, they were all real churchy and stuff before. Larkspur changed all that and we would whisper the new names he’d helped us choose to ourselves like a secret.” 

“Why yours?” I asked hoping it might break him off talking about Rook. “Why Fla’rue?” 

“Larkspur told me it meant something about dew on grass and he’d picked it up in a book someplace or other. I wanted a name like the others you know but they all agreed it suited me and in the end it did sound sort of nice.” 

“I’m sure they would have let you pick another one.” I said 

“Oh yes it wasn’t forced upon me, but Larkspur suggested it and it stuck. That’s how he is about naming things. He’s just good at it and when he chooses it’s chosen. It suits someone too well for them to change it.” 

“He’s your leader then?” I asked. 

“We don’t have one really, not like your Miss Frigga, she’s a real lady and a real leader. No, when we need someone in charge someone just takes the spot. We wanted it that way, we were tired of the church and the Old Gods always telling us what to do. They liked to try to keep us in line and they thought the way to do it was to always keep us busy. They gave us school lessons and made us all take up an instrument at one point. Most of the boys just couldn’t get their fingers to work with musical things since they had been all cut up and worn down from all the work we’d been doing. I couldn’t work as hard as the others, I got winded all the time so I…I mean I do feel bad about it but I found ways of making it look like I was working when I wasn’t.” 

I chuckled and he sneezed again. I can’t believe there was still so much guilt over small things like that in him. 

“So I could play and at first they were excited, thought I might be some kind of you know god’s gift or something like that. I didn’t have to work so much anymore at other things, but they made me practice and practice. I didn’t mind - I loved to play and I knew the other boys liked hearing it when they were doing other things. I kept at it, even after my lessons were over and I would use it to get the boys to go to sleep a lot of the time. Beetle and Thistle are both really bad about being able to get to bed, and they packed all of us into one room so it wasn’t a real comfortable situation. I’d sit on the floor and play my songs, the soft ones about as quietly as I could to try and get them asleep before I drifted off.” 

He smiled and wiggled his toes beneath the cloak, rocking back and forth slightly. It must’ve been rather a happy memory. 

“It was suddenly a bad thing though when one of the brothers in the church said I wasn’t using my music to glorify the church or something like that. They were real mad at me and got me on all the jobs that’d spoil my hands up real good. The floor was all rough sand stone, and if you didn’t wear shoes your feet would get scraped up real bad. They took ours away every now and again but I spent weeks, maybe a month cleaning all of those floors. Hurt my back more than my hands if I’m being honest and they did get rougher. I still had to practice too. They said how I played was a sin but that I needed to learn to make music for the Old Gods properly. I might not have been able to play so well if things had been all roughed up from the start, but now that I’d already gotten the basics down having roughed up hands was a good thing. Strings didn’t hurt nearly as much.” 

He laughed at the irony of it all. His teeth had stopped chattering and he felt much warmer now. 

“Oh they got so angry Sterling.” He said and then yawned. “They took us all someplace, I can’t remember where but we all went into this big kitchen and there was a pile of dishes – enormous - it was a wall of them all silver all needing to be washed and polished. I hated polishing; stuff always burnt my fingers up real bad and they made us all work at all of those dishes because of me. The others didn’t care at all, they were happy to be out of the church. They started songs and would try to pull all the kitchen maid’s braids or steal scalding bread right out of the oven. They could make the most hopeless places happy.” 

He yawned again, and when he tried to continue speaking it was all just muttering. One of the Altered Boys I didn’t know the name of came up to me. There were a lot of them and a lot of them went out on the lumber scouting parties and were hardly home. 

“Chat your ear off did he?” The boy asked. 

“I was trying to keep him awake..he was freezing.” 

“Blimey.” He replied, “Many thanks to you. We wouldn’t want to have our little Fla’rue freezing himself off now would we?” 

The Altered Boy scooped up Fla’rue who was only dimly aware of what was happening to him. 

“Oh..hello Cypress.” He murmured. 

“Hey.” Cypress said, “C’mon now let’s get you to bed.” 

They both went up the stairs and into the darkness. I knew my eyelids were getting heavy and that it wouldn’t be all that long before I too went into the land of slumber. I was fading fast right there against the fireplace when I saw through the open barricade at the opposite end two enormous antlers and a mess of matted fur. A cleric beast. 

Alarms going off everywhere in my head I hopped up from the fire and grabbed one of the nearby knives from the dish pile and hurled it across the room like Barristan had taught me. It sailed neatly end over end through the air and it’s point stuck into one of the antlers. The beast turned its head towards me. 

I needed help, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what to yell. Help or Cleric Beast would’ve been a sensible choice but neither of these occurred to me at the moment. Eventually I landed on just shouting fuck as loud as I could and hoping it would get the other Hunters out of bed. The beast leapt at me before I could get the final syllable out of my mouth and clamped its hand-wait cleric beast’s didn’t have human hands- over my mouth. 

The firelight revealed a much smaller terror then an actual cleric beast with mismatched eyes and an obnoxiously smug grin. “Scared you didn’t I.” she said. 

It was Fwahe - the strange hunter from the meet ups at the big church. She reached up and tugged the point of the knife from her antler. 

“Decent throwing arm you got there.” She said flipping it around and offering me the handle. 

“You…scared…the fuck out me!” I panted; fear and tension still taking their sweet time to let me go despite the false alarm. 

“Well duh.” Fwahe said, “It’s good for scaring other beasts too. That’s the whole point, don’t you know anything?” 

“G..guess not.” I said, then I took the knife from her and gripped it tight, ready to use it if I had too. “What are you doing here?” 

“I need to see Frigga.” She said, “It’s urgent.” 

She pushed past me and headed for the stairs. 

“Hey!” I called chasing after her, “You can’t see her right now..she’s uh..she’s not taking visitors.” 

“Oh she can make time for me.” Fwahe called over her shoulder bounding up the staircase. She took the things two or three at a time and left me in the dust slipping and sliding about in my stupid socks. I raced after her just as fast as I could go. She ran silently when she wasn’t throwing insults over her shoulder or turning back to grin or to laugh at me. 

She knew exactly where to go to get to Frigga too which means she must’ve been here before. I felt a little bit better about that, at least I hadn’t let a complete stranger into the library unannounced. When she arrived at Frigga’s door she pounded on it loud enough to wake the whole pack of us if she’d a mind to. 

“Lady Frigga I need to speak with you!” She shouted. 

“Who’s out there?” Frigga’s voice asked harshly from the other side of the door. 

“It’s Fwahe.” She responded. 

I thought I could hear an exasperated sigh from the other side of the door. 

“I’m sorry Frigga. She burst in and I thought it was a cleric beast and I was calling for help but she stopped me and-“ 

Frigga opened the door to her room, swiftly cutting my story short. She was dressed more simply then I’d ever seen her, just a simple black dressing gown that reached to her ankles. I suppose it was a little unfair of me to think that she slept in her gown and vest but it was weird seeing her without them. Her hair wasn’t loose and her hat wasn’t on. She’d braided it loosely and strands hung out here or there of their own accord. Her feet were bare despite the chill of the floorboards which I could feel through my socks. 

“Lucky it hadn’t been a cleric beast or we’d most likely be dead.” Frigga said annoyed. 

“Oh don’t give him so much trouble.” Fwahe replied. “The Altered Boy gaurds knew who I was and they let me pass. I told them I was going to play a little joke on the newblood.” 

“All the same I don’t think you should be showing up at strange times without letting any of us know you’re coming.” Frigga cautioned. “Everybody’s on a rather high alert as of late and it so happens that I am not in the mood for pranks.” 

“That’s not what I’m here to talk about.” Fwahe said voice suddenly getting serious. “I have something very important that I want to talk about with you. Alone.” 

Frigga took a moment to consider the matter. “Alright Fwahe, come in. Make it quick. Sterling leave us.” 

“With all due respect,” I began. “I don’t think that leaving you alone with a strange Hunter is a particularly good call.” 

“She does this from time to time.” Frigga said, “I’ll be fine.” 

Before I could offer further protest Fwahe stepped inside of Frigga’s room and the door was closed behind them. Templeton had been woken up in the commotion, I noticed her room was the closest one could get to Frigga’s study. 

“What happened.” She asked 

“Fwahe happened.” I growled. 

Templeton shuttered. “Just as I was finally giving myself some time to sleep she shows up. I’ll never get to bed knowing she’s here.” 

“I know what you mean.” I said, “She gives me the creeps too. I think it’s more that she brings back the memory of those cleric beasts than anything else though, if I’m being honest with you.” 

“Oh it’s not about the cleric beasts it’s definitely her.” Templeton assured me, “One time I brought a book to communion, you know just for some light reading. It was about the city of Venice which seems like it’s a charming place, or at least it was before the hunt began. Anyways I’m sitting there reading it and then she comes up to me and starts speaking the words right as I’m reading them even though she can’t see the pages. She said Tom was reading over my shoulder. There was no one behind me Sterling, not a soul. No, no I don’t like her none too much and I hate when she’s in there with Frigga.” 

“That is pretty creepy.” I agreed. “I think you’ve every right to be unsettled.” 

“Thanks.” Templeton said, “And I’m sorry about earlier. Cato was yelling a lot last night. He had a good raid on our liquor cabinet and sometimes whiskey makes him say things he doesn’t mean. I was up late trying to sort out Larkspur’s story and re-copy it so that it would be legible for other Hunters in the future, I can’t stand having to translate someone else’s poor handwriting. I must’ve been the only one awake. He came in and was ranting. He needed somebody to blame I guess.” 

“And you were the only one around.” I concluded 

“Yeah.” She said, “I know he’d never say anything like that sober but I also know that everyone thinks stuff like that sometimes. We can’t help it, it’s easier to blame someone we can make feel bad then the beasts out there. I know I’ve said some things I don’t mean after a little bit of rum.” 

“Could do with a drop of that myself actually.” I said. 

Templeton nodded and dashed back into her study room. I peeked in and it was beautiful. She had found some smaller bookshelves, probably from the children’s section and brought them into her room nailing them along the walls towards the ceiling all the way around. She had an actual bed and it was pressed against the far wall with a very comfortable looking white and blue quilt spread over it. What made it beautiful beyond reason though were the walls, she’d painted them. There were no crude beasts scrawled on pages of notebooks hastily, this was a map of the stars, constellations mapped out and scrolls next to each one with beautiful meticulous lettering that even I, unable to read a word of it could tell was beautiful. 

She took no notice of my noticing but rummaged around under her bed and pulled a bottle out and grabbed two cups out of one of the shelves. She poured a little into each one and we went outside and sat at one of the tables sipping slowly. The rum warmed me better than the fire. 

“I can’t imagine what Cato’s going through right now.” Templeton said to me after a time. 

“The Altered Boys are all scared about it I think.” I added, “Fla’rue told me about what it was like at the church and how much Rook had wanted to escape. It was really interesting but sad as well. I felt their pain now that he’s back there. I had thought it a little bit strange that he’d chosen to stay with Veera for a little while but the Altered Boys are kind of a strange lot to begin with. After talking with Fla’rue it seems impossible he would’ve made a choice to return.” 

“I was thinking the same thing, even before talking with Larkspur.” Templeton agreed. “While I have you here I should really begin teaching you how to read, or maybe I could get your account of what happened last night down.” 

“I’m sure it’s no real different than anyone else’s.” I said 

Templeton all but gasped, “Of course it’s different Sterling. It’s possibly the most important. You’re largely still an outsider so you’re possibly the best qualified to tell it. Everyone else’s’ mind is already clouded with what they know about Hunters and beasts but you remember everything because it’s new and different for you.” 

Here Templeton produced a piece of parchment and opened up the inkwell that was on the table. She pulled a pen from a drawer and dipped it in the ink patiently waiting for me to begin. 

I was tired and all shook up from my false encounter with the ersatz cleric beast. Mixing those feelings with a dash of rum was strange and trying to stay awake a struggle but Templeton’s imploring ink-stained gaze and the knowledge that she’d been yelled at on my account kept me going. 

I must have fallen asleep right there at the table. I woke up to the smell of coffee and a warm mug was pressed against my cheek. My bleary eyes blinked out sleep and when they opened I saw Templeton settling back down in her seat. She must’ve been the one who grabbed me the coffee. 

“How long was I out?” I asked half in a yawn. 

“Not really long actually.” Templeton said, “You stayed up most of the night just grinning and holding your glass. You kept trying to drink from it even though there wasn’t anything inside of it. You fell asleep at some point too but I don’t know exactly when.” 

“Mmm.” I said scratching my head. 

“Fwahe still hasn’t left Frigga’s room.” Templeton said crossing her arms and trying to blow an unruly curl from her face with an angry huff. 

“I’m sure everything is ok. If they were fighting or something you woulda heard it.” 

“Fighting isn’t what I was worried about.” Templeton mumbled. 

“What?” I asked. 

“Nothing.” Templeton said, cheeks suddenly going red, “It’s nothing.” 

There must’ve been something deeper to the two huntresses’ relationship, something that warranted jealously. Before I could further question it, we heard another door open and then the squeaking and scratching of Cato’s wheelchair wheels. They slowly faded off in the direction of the stairs. 

“Should we help him with those?” I asked 

Templeton shook her head, “I really don’t want to talk to Cato very much right now. He still hasn’t apologized or anything. I know he didn’t mean what he said and he knows I know but I feel like he should still say something about it.” 

“If he still remembers saying it,” I put in, “Sometimes when Mallory used to get drunk she’d forget everything that she said. He might not remember.” 

Templeton sighed and slid off her stool. We both headed for the stairs and not a second too soon. Cato had grabbed the stair railing and was using it to help him balance. Chest heaving with the effort he attempted to stand. 

“Cato!” I shouted and his head snapped backwards to face me. “What are you doing?” 

“Standing…the fucks it look like?” He asked. 

“You’re not supposed to get out of that chair for a few weeks. It’s only been like a few days.” I replied. 

“Weeks, days, it don’t really matter. Someone’s gotta go make sure Rook’s ok and none of you look like you’re gonna.” 

Templeton rolled her eyes. She strode over and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him back into his chair easily despite the strength difference in the two Hunters. “You’re never going to heal up at all if you keep trying to stand before you’re ready. Try anything like that again and I’ll have you tied down to the thing. Kos help me I will!”, she declared. 

“Kos would have to help the Hunter who tried.” Cato mumbled, but settled back down in his seat. 

Templeton and I managed to maneuver it down the stairs and onto the main floor. Cato insisted on returning to his room every night and coming back down the next morning. He was going to remain as close to his usual routine as possible. 

The main floor was freezing, the open door was really starting to become a problem. Late autumn winds blew cold gusts of wind into the library every few seconds. Winter was on its way. The cloak I had given to Fla’rue last night I found neatly folded and left on the hearth. He and Cypress were trying to get a fire started, but wood was becoming something of a scarcity. Templeton broke away from me and Cato once she saw they were trying to use book pages as kindling and whacked Fla’rue’s hands away from the pages with her big notebook. The two boys darted away from her. 

“They’re going to need some winter clothing.” I said coming over to help Templeton with the fire. 

“What they need is respect for the library.” She huffed picking up the crumpled pages and brushing off the soot. 

“Seriously though, the little one was almost frozen to death last night.” 

“Talk to Frigga about it.” Templeton huffed striking a steel and flint and setting a new fire ablaze completely book page free. 

I decided it was worth a try. I went back upstairs to Frigga’s room and knocked on the door. 

“Come in!” She shouted. 

I opened the door. Her room was beautifully arranged with nice tables and chairs pilfered from the finer pieces that the library had to offer. She opened a door and came out of what used to be the head librarians’ office. 

“Oh..it’s you Sterling.” She said, “I thought Fwahe wanted something else.” She was still in the black dress with no shoes on. 

“No…I..uhjust..wanted to talk to you about getting the Altered Boys some winter clothes…that sounds really kind of unimportant now that I’ve actually brought it up to you though.” 

She smiled good naturedly and rubbed her eyes, I don’t think she’d actually gotten much sleep last night. “I’ll look into it, maybe you can ask the twins?” 

“That’s a good idea.” I said, “Are you doing alright? You seem a little tired.” 

“It’s not that.” She said and walked towards the old reception desk. The desk had long been emptied but laid on top of it were several lockets. She picked one up and wiggled her fingernail around it’s catch, popping it open. Inside was a drawing of a lady, maybe somewhere around seventeen or sixteen. The drawing was so tiny and rendered in soft pastels. “This was one of our sisters and she passed away a year ago to the day. I know a lot has gone on since then and it’s hard to keep a handle on anniversaries when we’ve got monsters to fight but I was hoping to have some time to myself today.” 

“Oh sorry to have disturbed you.” I apologized now monumentally uncomfortable. 

“It’s fine.” Frigga said plastering on a smile, “Part of being a leader. You had a concern and it’s my job to deal with it, it’s dealt with. Anything else you need?” 

“No, thank you.” I said and turned for the door, “Oh and sorry for your loss.” 

I headed downstairs and was met with a strange scene. I immediately went over to investigate further. 

Fwahe had Templeton by the shoulders. “Where are all the little pale boys…Altered boys at?” 

Templeton, shaking with surprise and apprehensive when staring into the unsettling eyes of the crazy cleric hunter, squeaked out a frightened “Why?” 

“You need to protect yourselves from them. They’re all going to turn like last night.” She said. 

“That was just because Rook took too much.” I cut in. 

Fwahe shook her head; antlers swinging back and forth, “No. Overdose always goes to the head- literally starts with the face. This is something else. Infection. They’re infected.” 

She let go of her grip on Templeton and turned to me. “Frigga didn’t believe me. Tom didn’t believe me, but I know it’s true. They’re all infected all of them. You just wait and see. The big one that was with you the other night, Larkspur, he’s going to be next. I’ve seen it.” 

Without so much as a goodbye her attention turned to the frigid outdoors. She pulled her mask over her face and bounded out into the cold. 

“I really, really don’t care for her.” Templeton said. 

I didn’t either, but I figured it was possible that what she was saying had some merit to it. I figured it couldn’t hurt to see what Larkspur was up too and keep a bit of an eye on him. I headed in the direction that Cypress and Fla’rue had gone. Most of the Altered Boys slept in a large alcove with a tiered pit in it where librarians would sometimes read out stories to those like me or littler kids or just people who wanted to hear things. They’d set up their sleeping spots on all of the tiers in a big semi-circle. A lot of the Altered Boys were sitting up on their various blanket nests talking to each other but a few were empty. I couldn’t spot Larkspur amongst those who were present. 

Cypress and Fla’rue were on the lowest tier, farthest from me and in about the center of the semi-circle. It was not a convenient place to get to, but I navigated my way around to it without upsetting anything more important than a boot or a spear here or there. 

“Hello.” I said greeting both of them. 

Fla’rue smiled up at me. “Good Morning Sterling, thanks for listening to me blabbering on and on last night.” 

“He don’t usually talk too much.” Cypress chuckled ruffling what was left of Fla’rue’s hair. Fla’rue kept it in a style that seemed to be popular amongst the Boys, cut away on the sides with just a tuft of hair on the top. Cypress’ was the same. “

I don’t mind.” I said, “You didn’t bother me Fla’rue. Anyways I was wondering if either of you had seen Larkspur anywhere.” 

They looked at each other and then turned back to me and shook their heads. 

“He’s not in trouble or anything.” I assured them. 

“I think he went out looking for more lumber. His contact was s’posed to have gotten the goods in he was.” Cypress informed. 

“It’s freezing out there. Please tell me he went in something more than just his vest.” 

“I’m sure he had his pants on too.” Cypress said with a chuckle, “And gloves as well come to think of it.” 

“Gloves?” I asked. I’d never noticed any of them with gloves before. 

Cypress nodded. 

My eyebrows shot up in alarm and I raced back to Templeton. “

Hey you took Larkspurs testimony thing right?” I asked her. 

She could sense the urgency in my tone and looked up to me before stammering “Uhh…uh yeah.” 

“I need you to get it and read it to me right now.” I said. 

“Wh-why?” She stammered but didn’t wait for a response before dashing up the stairs. She was back with it seconds late, a raggedy book with scraps of paper stuck in and nearly falling out everywhere. We brought it to the dining room table and she flipped to the part where Larkspur’s account of the other night happened. 

“Did he tell you about what he and Rook did in the kitchen?” I asked. 

She nodded. “Are we looking for anything in particular?” 

“I…I don’t know exactly. Fwahe said that they were all infected and that Larkspur was next so I went to go check up on it. The last time he’d been seen he was going out wearing gloves. I think he might be trying to keep his hands covered, go off and transform somewhere after seeing what happened with Rook.” 

“Shit.” Templeton muttered and began to run a finger down the scribblings in her book searching for the right part. 

She read it to me slowly “Once we got back there Rook and I were set to polishing silver. I goofed around for the most part, we had gotten good at doing stuff like this before so I was tossing stuff to Rook instead of handing it to him and he was polishing it up as nice as you like. We went for quite a while then his arms got tired and we switched off only he wasn’t so great with aim and he hit Cook in the head and that’s when we grabbed the little pies and ran off.” 

She took off her glasses and tried to polish them with the hem of her shirt but only really smeared the ink and dirt around a bit more. “I don’t think there’s much to help you there Sterling. Fwahe was just being crazy like she always is.” 

“No.” I said shaking my head, “No she was wrong but she wasn’t crazy at all. How far did we get into my part?” 

“Not very, you must be a lightweight because the rum took its effect on you very quickly.” She said flipping to her notes about me. They were on a separate sheet sandwiched between two of the books’ pages. “You left off where Anwen got you before you were able to help Brother Alfred out.” 

“Templeton…ok..can I just run this by you because I know it might be a little crazy but I think Rook was set up. His hands went first and all of your research shows that that isn’t supposed to happen.” 

She nodded and leaned forward. She was trying to see where I was going with this. I was trying to see where I was going with this. 

“I think Brother Alfred was trying to get a few people killed.” I said. 

“Sterling that’s crazy he’s an Excutioner. Well I mean, not that kind of Executioner. They’re a branch of the church, well respected he wouldn’t-“ she began 

“Just…just hear me out ok?” I asked. 

Templeton nodded, but held up her hand to get me to stop before pulling out ink and her trusty quill. She scribbled for a little bit then motioned for me to continue. 

“Alfred was going to have me sort out silver coins. It’s conceivable that he knew the Boys were going to be working with silver too, which Salem told us to avoid. I think he poisoned it somehow, coated it in something or polished it weird…I don’t know how but I think he was setting us up. Fla’rue was telling me last night about how silver polish used to make all the boys’ arms burn back at the church so even if something with it had started early they wouldn’t have noticed.” 

Templeton’s eyes flashed with understanding. “So when Rook went first that was just because he’d been polishing longer.” 

I nodded pleased that she could follow where I was going with things. “Yes.” I said 

“We just assumed it was overdose but it wasn’t. He really was just that blood starved. The church hates the Altered Boys, they were going to put everyone in a frenzy and hunt them down.” 

“I don’t think their plan went the way that they wanted it too.” I said, “Because Larkspur didn’t go at the same time. I don’t know why they’d want to make me turn too…I can’t figure that out but if both of the Boys had turned I don’t think that any of us could have held back the Hunters.” 

“If they have this kind of power…” Templeton mumbled. 

I didn’t want to speculate on what kind of things they could do with their ability. I wanted to make sure no more of us ended up dead. “Larkspur must think that he’s really going to become a beast. We have to go find him and we don’t have any time to lose.” 

“I’ll let Frigga know what’s going on.” Templeton said, “She’ll let us get a search party together, I’m sure of it.” 

“No, no I don’t think that’s a good idea!” I said but she was already off. 

We both raced up the stairs, and nearly collided with the silver haired huntress on her way down. She was in her gown again, but her eyelids weighed on her heavily and there were dark circles under her eyes. It was subtle but unmistakable, and subtly spoke volumes when it came to the Lady Frigga. 

“Sorry!” We said in unison then both launched into our explanation of what was happening at the same time. It must have come out a garbled mess, but Frigga waited patiently and listen to us. When breathless, we finally had our tale told she took her chance to speak. 

“Your story just can’t be true.” She said, “Brother Alfred is not a corrupt hunter. We’ve worked with him over the years, Templeton, you know he helped us clear this church. You’ve tried to make them into the bad guy quite a few times if I recall.” 

“Yes I know.” Templeton said, “But Sterling brings up some really good points.” 

“Fwahe brought up some really good points last night as well.” Frigga said, “She told me all the Altered Boys would become beasts before morning and that I needed to burn down the library to cleanse it and keep them from turning. But you know what that sounded a little crazy, so I had her wait out the night and when there were no beasts tearing up the place in the morning she had to accept the fact that she was wrong. The same is going to happen to you if you think of bringing up something like this, especially if it’s at communion. I’ve been embarrassed at too many of those lately.” 

Templeton looked completely crushed, “But it’s the truth..it’s got to be. That would explain the hands being the only thing to-“ 

“Come on Temple.” Frigga sighed pleading with her tone. She was exhausted, “Even if it were true, and you don’t have any factual evidence to prove that it is, it would be foolhardy to challenge the morals of the entire church. We’re losing our allies rather quickly. I would love to be able to take care of all the Altered Boys problems but we have problems of our own. I set you to researching the blood shortages, if we can figure that out then maybe we’ll gain enough respect to investigate this.” 

“It’ll be too late by then.” Templeton argued, “They’ll have gotten to all the boys by then and they tried to do it to Sterling too!” 

“Why him?” Frigga asked. 

“To make you look bad. Don’t you get it?” Templeton asked voice dripping with desperation, “The church wants to make you look bad. They want us out and they want the boys out. They want Yharnam because there is blood here and it’s running out everywhere else. If you lost another hunter to beasthood then they’d-“ 

“Enough.” Frigga said, “If what you say is true then we’ve already foiled their plot. You can explain what you think happened to the boys and they can send their own party out to get Larkspur back but I can’t risk any of you guys going out there.” 

“You’re kidding me!” Templeton shouted stamping her foot, “How can you be so selfish?! You know I’m right about this! It’s got to be true but you don’t want to see it. The church is behind it all Frigga, the Altered Boys are right about that, if this true and it makes sense and we both know that it is that means they were responsible for a lot more than just Rook’s lost fingers. They might have caused Atlee’s death. You’ve got to let us-“ 

Frigga’s hand shot out and stopped a few inches from Templeton’s face. Frigga had been just about ready to hit the bespectacled Hunter. 

“Atlee’s death was not the churches’ fault.” Frigga said, “Don’t think that you can make that go away with one of your theories. Her death is on you.” 

She strode away before we could protest. Templeton blinked in confusion a few times and I could tell that Frigga’s words hurt her more than if she actually had been slapped in the face. Templeton went directly up to her room and I followed her, but she shut the door before I could get in and snapped the lock closed. 

I went back downstairs and informed the Altered Boys of our theories. Fla’rue was astonished that his story last night had been of aid and all of the boys were outraged at the news that their brothers-in-arms had been played. They grabbed their spears and the whole pack of them spilled out into the nighttime streets before any of them were able to grab warm clothing or formulate a sensible plan. They were all pure impulse.


	9. Chapter the Ninth: In Which we Evaluate Our Options

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fall out from communion is felt. An unwelcome visit begins. Also Cato gets a little drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think!

The library was sad and silent after that. Everyone was staying in their rooms for the most part. Frigga sat by the open door letting the wind bite at her for a long time. She looked like she was waiting for someone but nobody ever showed up. Mouse tried to get me to play a game with him but I didn’t understand the rules and he got frustrated and gave up on me after a while. 

Dinner that night was rough. Templeton hadn’t brought a single book to the table with her and she didn’t sit anywhere near Frigga. Frigga seemed to take no notice and carried on as usual, the only notable difference being that she had an extra glass of wine. Barristan tried to start a conversation once or twice, but no one was in the mood to hear how many times he’d hit a bullseye when he’d practiced knife throwing today. I asked the twins if we might be able to spare some winter clothing for the Altered Boys when they came back and they said they’d look into it, but they didn’t have the same enthusiasm they’d had when they got to dress me up before. Anwen was silent, and Mouse was worried that the Altered Boys weren’t back and kept asking Imogen when they’d be back. She snapped at him a few times and then he was quiet too. 

They didn’t come back before we went to bed. Frigga gave Barristan and the twins guard duty. 

Midway through the night I heard a soft knock at my door. I opened it and saw Mouse standing there in his little woolen pajamas holding a bedraggled stuffed animal cat and a book. “I can’t sleep. Templeton won’t read me my story and I can’t get to bed.” 

He shuffled past me before I could protest and climbed into my hammock. 

I was drowsy and only half awake but I scooted into the hammock with him. “Mouse I can’t read.” I said. 

He sighed but snuggled in closer to me. Illiteracy wasn’t going to get me out of this one. 

“How about I just make one up instead.” I said grabbing the book and leaning over the edge to set it down on the floor. 

Mouse made no protest so I supposed that a made up story was just going to have to do. I’d never really told a kid a bedtime story before, I wasn’t the best storyteller in any of the street gangs I’d ran with. There was always someone who could really make things come alive and add real tension to a scene but it wasn’t my area of expertise. Mouse did not have a lot of taste in stories, like most small children, and after I shambled together something beginning “once upon a time” and ending “happily ever after” he was snoring softly beside me. The arm I had around him had gone numb and I lay there uncomfortable and immobile wondering if Hunters got to have happily ever after’s too. 

Mouse was an early bird and he sent the hammock swinging when he woke up the next morning. I almost fell out, kid had zero hammock etiquette. Since Mouse was awake I decided to be awake too. 

I wondered if this was how bees lived, one woke up and then the whole hive was awake. No one ever seemed to stay asleep much more than ten minutes after the first would descend the staircase. 

Mouse wanted to check and see if the Altered Boys had come back so he all but raced down the stairs pulling me along beside them and asking if I would tell the story I told him last night again. I didn’t remember what had happened in it at all so I just smiled and nodded and tried to keep up with Mouse. When we got to the bottom of the stairs they still weren’t back. There were no signs of them except for the pile of nests they had made and various personal belongings:, Fla’rue’s violin, the tooth necklace that Rook wore, stuff like that. I was sure they intended to come back. Mouse was extremely disappointed. He just sort of sat down on the nearest tier and stared. 

“I thought they’d be back by now.” He said softly. 

“They’re just out there looking for Larkspur. They’ll come back as soon as they find him.” I replied. 

“But what if it’s like Scarlett and they don’t come back?” Mouse said, “People think I know but I know that them Vanishers are out there snatching people. What if the Vanishers got ‘um?” 

“Aww c’mon no one could take on the whole pack of them. They left armed to the teeth and no one is going to screw with a group that large, most beasts even know to avoid them. I’m sure that they just had a little ways to go and figured it was easier to shelter through the night and come back the next day. When Templeton gets up we can get her to check the messengers.” 

Mouses’ face brightened at the prospect and he nodded his enthusiasm for the plan. We decided to make breakfast for everyone, he was happy to help if it meant we might get to see the Boys sooner. I was stringing him along quite a bit but I had no idea what else you were supposed to do with kids. That’s what the gangs did with the young ones. It had happened to me once or twice when I was younger and it was a good learning process, not that I planned on hurting Mouse or anything. In truth I was pretty sure that the Boys were going to be back soon regardless of if they had managed to locate Larkspur or not. 

Anwen and Cato showed up when we were halfway done. Cato had given up any efforts of concealment about his newly developed habits and had a bottle of amber liquor tucked into the corner of his wheelchair seat. He took a sip from it in lieu of a good morning and splashed a little into his morning coffee as well. 

“Templeton wouldn’t read to me last night.” Mouse complained to Anwen. 

She ruffled his hair, smiled and shrugged. 

The twins were the next down the stairs but they didn’t join us right away. Even if they weren’t excited about it they stopped at the closet and began to pull various items out. Mouse joined them and soon he was carrying sweaters across the room and clumsily folding them at the dining table. All of the sweaters were either white grey or black and even with such limited options Mouse put careful thought into which sweater would be matched with each of the Boys. 

“It could be pointless doing this.” Sage said. 

“I could do a reading, maybe find out how they’re doing.” Salem offered pulling her tarot cards out of her pocket. 

“I wouldn’t understand the significance.” I admitted, “Anwen was the only one who was able to really actually keep a decent lookout for silver when you warned us.” 

“She does kind of have a gift for it.” Salem said wistfully. 

“It’s just because she’s cautious in general, when you give her something to actually watch out for her then she’s even better at being careful.” Sage said proposing his own theory. 

Anwen shot us a look and we all shut up. There was no reason to start more arguments, especially with communion fast approaching. Frigga was going to be hard pressed to choose any of us to go with her, I was fairly certain that Mouse was a much better choice than Cato was liable to be as long as he had a bottle on him. You’d think he would have been more careful around addicting stuff after the whole business with Rook. Templeton and I hadn’t told anyone else about our theory, at least not to our knowledge. It was enough to lose all of the Boys so suddenly there was no reason to provoke other Hunters. Some part of me really wanted to tell Cato, but if he knew that the church was the one who’d caused all this he’d be hunting them down chair or no chair. 

Frigga joined us and took her seat at the head of the table. She seemed to have gotten all of her usual grace and confidence restored but I was too sleep deprived to observe things closely. She began to run something by Anwen, talking in low whispers. Imogen joined them after a time and Templeton was the last to come to the breakfast table. She slumped in her seat and didn’t say anything. She brought a book with her but didn’t bother opening it. It sat untouched and unread in front of her as she stared glumly out into space. 

Mouse ignored her dismal mood, going right up to her and asking her about the messengers. Templeton gave him a weak smile and wrote out a quick note then left the table and went to the decommissioned bathrooms. Puzzled I followed her. 

She went to one of the sinks where a sentient white fungus, alive and writhing was located. They had faces, in a sense, and hands as well but nobody had bothered to warn me that there were tiny mutant skeleton people living in the sink. What if I had gone in there to take a piss and seen that? 

Templeton handed them the folded envelope and patted one of them on the head. That particular little terror had a top hat on its head. Another one had a ribbon tied in its hair and one had a cone-shaped party hat with polka dots on it. 

“Strange friends you got there.” I said. 

Templeton chuckled out of obligation. “This is Ichabod, Penny and Simon.” 

She introduced me and pointed to top hat, ribbon and party guy in turn. The little guys made no indication that they understood their own names. 

“What are they?” I asked. 

Templeton shrugged, “There’s a lot of theories on where they come from. We call them messengers because they well deliver messages. Most hunters have a bath or sink messenger in their base of operations. Our messengers will check with others and see if anyone is out there who might be able to deliver this message so hopefully we’ll hear back soon enough. They don’t have the best range in the world and you sometimes have to get them to string messages along quite a fair distance but it’s better than nothing.” 

“Fair enough.” I said, “But they are kind of fucked up to look at.” 

Templeton shrugged, “I suppose.” 

“Are you ok?” I asked her. 

“I’m tired of having people snap at me.” Templeton said. “They think that because I forgive them it magically makes things ok.” 

“She’s under a lot of stress right now.” I said 

“She always is.” Templeton sighed, “They all are. You don’t think I’m stressed? Finding out the cause of this blood shortage is just about as impossible a task as was ever given. I’m never going to be able to solve this thing and it’s bound to be because I’m somehow an inadequate researcher. Half of the groups of Hunters these days don’t even have a recorder or researcher like me. It really is a sought after position you know? I could leave this group if I wanted and join up just about anywhere, someplace where I wouldn’t get yelled at all the time by everyone.” 

“You can’t leave me with these crazy people.” I said, “You’re the only one who ever bothers to explain things!” 

Templeton gave me a weak smile, “You looked so scared when I first spoke with you, I was worried that you weren’t going to make it back to the sewers.” 

“Luckily you and Frigga make a great team.” I said 

“I wish she could see that.” Templeton sighed. 

“I’m sure she does.” I added hopefully. 

“No.” Templeton said decidedly, “She would’ve reciprocated by now. Before she was a leader here she’d chase after lots of the other lady hunters. She got just about any that she wanted too, no one could say no to her. She was always brimming with confidence and knew exactly what to say all the time, she had a few girlfriends, none of them serious. That was a long time ago.” 

“Oh.” I said, so this wasn’t just about yesterday. “I think that maybe she’s just too busy to-“ 

“It’s ok Sterling.” Templeton said, “you don’t have to justify things to me. I do it myself all the time. If the Altered Boys come back maybe I’ll give that persistent one a chance.” 

“He seemed to annoy you.” I chuckled. 

“Yeah.” She sighed, “But he’s the only one who’s showed interest in a long time. I get so caught up in things, that I forget that there’s some part of us that’s still human. I look at Frigga and I just know that these aren’t Hunter’s feelings. There’s no bravery or wit or logic too it. When I look at her I don’t worry about turning or anything like that. Beasts don’t know what these emotions are.” 

We didn’t say anything for a while after that. Templeton was one of those people that you could be silent with for a good long time and it didn’t get awkward. We sat on the tile floor and waited for a response. “

Is communion tonight?” I asked. 

Templeton shrugged, “It’s not like I’m going to be allowed to go so I haven’t really been keeping up with it.” 

After a few hours with no response from the messengers I started to get stir crazy. I asked if Templeton wouldn’t mind sparring with me for a while, and she smiled and nodded happy to have something to keep her mind off things. We both grabbed our axes and headed for the training space behind the stairs. No one else was there. 

I was getting better, and Templeton was willing to go at half her usual speed so that I could get a feeling for the steps and see when a person was open to attack or just feigning it. The axe wasn’t as heavy as it used to be and I was figuring out when was a good time to use it in its short form as opposed to having it fully extended all the time. 

She was willing to give me hints but never overwhelmed me with information like Barristan tended too. She also didn’t get frustrated which was a quality that I thought anyone teaching you how to fight should really be required to have. 

It may have also been that she was just not as good as the other people I’d fought. I felt like I was doing really well but I kept reminding myself she was slowing down for me. She was taking time to point things out. It wasn’t that I was good or that she was bad, that wasn’t the point. I was supposed to be learning something. It was just really nice to not have my ass kicked on a consistent basis for once. 

It took up the time too. When you were fighting, truly in the moment trying to take in all of your opponents moves and strategies the rest of the world slipped away. The tension faded. The anxiety and worry and constant fear that had gained a stranglehold on my heart ever since I smelt Smoke-Eyes’ dog relaxed and I could breathe again. 

We only stopped fighting when I was so exhausted I couldn’t keep my axe up. I was panting and all of my clothes were soaked with sweat. Templeton’s hair was askew and she was breathing pretty heavily as well. 

We sat on the stairs and she handed me a canteen of water. “You put up quite a fight.” She said. 

“Thanks.” I said gratefully taking a sip. 

Templeton went off to check her messages and I headed over towards the door to cool off. The evening breeze felt incredible after the heat of the practice space. As I stared out into the night I was surprised to see a shape approaching, human like and without any indication of antlers or cleric beast paraphernalia. Perhaps the Altered Boys had sent a runner to give us an update but then again perhaps not. I looked around for someone I could wave over, I didn’t want to alert the whole group if it turned out to be nothing threatening. 

Barristan and Frigga were over at the dinner table locked in an argument about hunting and I tried to get their attention subtly by waving my hands or jerking my head towards the door. Frigga’s back was to me and Barristan was too caught up in the moment to notice. 

“Hey.” I hissed at them. 

Both their heads swiveled towards me as though I was a hunter who’d just snapped a twig with my boot and they were the two deer I’d been pursuing. Frigga strode over to me and stood by my side casually leaning one arm against the door frame. 

“What is it?” She asked me. 

I pointed out into the darkness where the figure was steadily coming towards us growing larger and larger. She squinted towards it straining to see clearer. Neither of us could make it out. 

Barristan had come over and joined us, spinning one of his knives and gazing outside with us. I wished the Altered Boys were here, they would’ve raised an alarm on this and then we wouldn’t have to stand here in anxious anticipation. It came closer and closer but its pace didn’t change in the slightest. Slow and steady, never pausing to look around or check the surrounding area. Whether that was due to confidence, stupidity or desperation was too difficult to determine from this distance. 

“It could be one of the Altered Boys.” I said hopefully. 

Frigga shook her head, “They bound all over the place, their pace changes and they’d never keep to that straight a line. It’s not one of them.” 

“So long as it isn’t Fwahe again.” Barristan said. 

“It’s not her either.” Frigga said, “This is at the very least a hunter of hunters, they would be undaunted roaming our grounds. I believe it’s Sister Veera perhaps coming to tell us that she’s finally done her job.” 

Lo and behold Frigga was right. When she was close enough that we could get a clear read on her, Veera was indeed the one striding toward us, white church garb billowing in the evening wind. 

“Good eye, Sterling.” Frigga said with a nod of approval. 

We waited for her to come to us instead of going out to meet her. The folds of her clothing snapped and fluttered even as she stood still before us. 

“Lady Frigga…and assorted others.” She said in greeting. 

“Sister Veera.” Frigga replied. 

They stood there staring at each other for a while. Barristan gritted his teeth and his hand clenched the handle of his knife tight enough to make the knuckles go white. 

“You know,” Sister Veera began, “It is customary to bow in greeting to ones’ superiors. It is all but required when one’s superiors are hunters of hunters. You take in so many misfits though I suppose even the great Lady Frigga forgets how to be a proper hunter from time to time.” 

Frigga’s eyes blazed with fury, but she dipped her head and bowed ever so slightly. Barristan and I followed her lead. Sister Veera waited looking each of us over in turn. I focused all of my energy on keeping my legs from wobbling worn out though they were from practice. After keeping us there for a good thirty seconds Veera returned the salute. 

“What are you here for?” Barristan asked blurting out the question we were all thinking. 

Sister Veera clicked her tongue at him in contempt. “No respect shown from your underlings either. Shame.” 

“What are you here for, Sister?” Barristan asked all but growling his revision. 

“Better.” She noted before proceeding, “I have come to inform you that the clinic has been cleared out. I slayed the mad girl myself. I’ve come to collect the Altered Boys and escort them to their new home.” 

“Not possible ma’am.” I said stepping in and lying, “They’re out hunting, and they tend to take their time with it.” 

“Very well.” Sister Veera huffed, “I shall stay here for the night and await their return, provided that is alright with you Lady Frigga.” 

“We’d be just delighted to have you.” Frigga said in a dead pan clearly indicating that we would not. 

“Excellent. Have the newblood and the rude one prepare some food for me won’t you?” Sister Veera asked her voice dripping with sickening sweetness, “killing the immoral and crazed amongst us really works up one’s appetite.” 

She didn’t wait for confirmation. It was clear that in the church groups things were done a bit differently. Barristan and I both looked to Frigga. 

“Just humor her for now as best you can.” She instructed, “So we have to bow and watch ourselves a bit more closely. You’re my hunters and I expect you to do whatever you can to keep the integrity of the Valkyries intact. I have as much contempt for the church as any of you, but in this moment we need whatever allies we can find.” 

We both nodded grimly and I headed into the kitchen area with Barristan. 

“Think we ought to just give her some stale bread and pray she chokes on it.” He grumbled. 

“She did choose the two worst cooks in the group.” I said, “I don’t know how to cook much of anything without burning it, and I’ve never seen you in here before.” 

Barristan looked offended for a second, “Just ‘cos I don’t slave away in here doesn’t mean I spent my youth eating dirt and leaves. In my days on the street I ate like a king, I know how to cook a thing or two.” 

Now that he had something to prove, Barristan took control of the kitchen. I chopped some vegetables for him while he messed with spices and in a short while we presented Sister Veera with roasted crows’ meat and vegetables. She folded her arms in prayer and then began to eat. 

“Having a midnight snack or something?” Cato asked, loudly wheeling himself into the dining area. His head swayed from side to side as he spoke and he hiccupped every now and again. 

Sister Veera looked up from her meal and they locked eyes. Cato’s expression darkened and he rolled his way closer to the table. He was muttering a good deal, trying to put his thoughts into order. As he came closer I saw that the bottle in his chair which had been full earlier was now drained of a third of its contents. Cato was still drunk. 

“Where’s Rook? How’s Rook?” Cato asked. 

“I see this one isn’t just impolite,but intoxicated as well.” Veera huffed. “Do you truly condone his consumption of alcohol?” 

Rather than answer her directly Frigga took a deep sip from her glass of red wine. 

Cato impatient and irrational grabbed the edge of the table and hauled himself closer shaking all of the dishes and cups on its surface. “Where is he?” 

Sister Veera dabbed her lips on a napkin before turning to him and replying, “I do not enjoy being spoken to in this manner, boy. I’m not going to tell you anything until you show me the respect I am well within my rights as hunter of hunters to demand.” 

She was new to the post, must have wanted to ensure we all knew it, as though any of us planned to forget. Cato’s whole head seemed to spin. His eyes crossed and uncrossed. He started several sentences then stopped before the second syllable could escape his mouth. Tightly gripping the handles of his wheelchair he pushed himself up off the seat. Shaking and wheezing, swaying slightly he flopped his head back and then flung it forward, barely able to catch his weight in the drunken attempt at a bow. 

Sister Veera took her time, then stood and returned the salute. Breathing heavily, Cato tried to navigate back to his chair, but Imogen had to step in and help him. Veera clearly chuckled, but then tried to hide it with a cough into her napkin. 

“Now where’s he at?” Cato asked, “How’s he doin Miss Hunter a’ Hunters?” 

“Your friend is recovering.” Sister Veera said. “The infection has yet to spread any further and he’s making great progress in his re-conversion as well. He may never become a church hunter again but there’s much he can do for our cause nonetheless.” 

“Conversion ma’am?” I asked somewhat confused, “You mentioned no kind of conversion at the meeting.” 

“I only thought it was a natural bit of knowledge, perhaps a newblood like yourself didn’t understand. We needed to purge not only his blood, but his soul as well and what better way to do that then by restoring his faith. He’s making great progress; we’ve already managed to expunge several of his impure thoughts and desires. He wears the black robes now and he’s likely to be taken in by one of the smaller branches of our church.” 

“But he’s an Altered Boy.” Cato said, “He’s my altered boy ok? He’s mine n’ he don’t want any of you holy motherfuckers savin’ his soul, ok. It’s mine.” 

“Cato hush.” Imogen hissed to him. 

Cato tried to stand up again, “No, no you hush. Juss because your girl’s gone don’ me I gotta keep quiet and play nice and pretend like I’m not super stupid for my guy. I’m not gonna have the motherfuckin’ church mess with his head n’ make him forget all about me No. No. No. He’s….I’m goin’ to get him right this fuckin’ minute n’ we’re totally gonna do it on’ the fuckin’ chapel alter or whatever the fuck kinda sacred shit you have in there.” 

Most of us couldn’t help but chuckle a little at his statement. Sister Veera was not amused. 

“Ok ma’am sorry about that. I think its Cato’s bedtime.” Imogen said shoving him down into his seat and wheeling him away despite protests and struggles. 

“Such a pity about him.” Sister Veera said, “He was such an excellent weapons maker and much more then half-rate as a hunter. Injury softens the mind though I suppose.” 

“Actually his recovery is going pretty well, Sister.” Templeton said entering the dining area with a late night cup of coffee and a large tome. “He’s consuming a little bit more alcohol then I would’ve liked, but in terms of his actual injuries they’re healing. He was fortunate enough to not have anything puncture his lungs that would’ve been a real problem and-“ 

“Yes I see.” Sister Veera said. 

Templeton bowed to her, but didn’t not wait for it to be returned before continuing. “I actually wanted to ask you some questions about your methods of purging and why it was able to work this time when it failed numerous others, Sister.” 

“Well I’d be happy to answer any questions you might have, as would any of our recorders back at the Central Cathedral.” She responded. 

“Excellent, excellent.” Templeton said nodding her head and taking a seat at the table. She opened to a clean page in her tome and began to ask a seemingly endless barrage of questions. Veera did her best to keep up, but it was clear that Templeton had more questions then she had answers and the speed of Templeton’s quill greatly outmatched the speed of Sister Veera’s speech. Finally one of us had managed to fluster her. I spotted a small grin forming at the corner of Frigga’s mouth. 

Templeton questioned everything, from the material used in the blood transfer tubing to the exact amount of blood that had been taken from each of the nineteen church hunters who’d given their blood to Rook’s cause. There were many that Veera did not know the answer to, and every time she missed one Templeton would make a comment about some other instance where a different church leader had been able to give her that information. One time Veera contested this, but Templeton’s research was rock solid and she simply flipped to the page where she’d taken that interview and produced the desired information. 

“I only thought it was a natural bit of knowledge.” Templeton referencing what she must have overheard Veera say to me earlier, “Perhaps a newblood hunter of hunters like yourself can’t be expected to be aware of it.” 

Sister Veera stood up from her chair and turned on her heel, “I’ve had quite enough of your questions. Someone please show me to my room, I wish to retire.” 

We all looked at each other, swinging our heads back and forth; no one really wanting to spend more time with Veera or for that matter have her sleeping in our block. 

“Well?” She demanded. 

I stepped in, lying again somewhat satisfied to be back to swindling, “Well naturally we haven’t been able to maintain the upstairs very well. The place is old and the roof leaks. You’d be better off sleeping down here, ma’am.” 

I led her back to the altered boy’s nests and she gave another annoyed huff but settled down onto one of the blanket piles. Let her freeze her ass off after we put out the fire, would serve her and her stuck up attitude just right. 

I went back to the dining table and everyone was still crowded around it, except for Cato and Imogen. 

“Thanks Temp.” Barristan said ruffling the little scholars’ curls, “No one else has managed to make her look dumb. You’re the only smart one of the whole bunch.” 

“I wasn’t really trying to. At first I had some genuine questions.” Templeton replied meekly, but then admitted, “But after her being rude to Cato I decided to be rude back.” 

“I’m very glad you did.” The Lady Frigga commended, “The church always thinks that their so complete and undeniably right all the time. It was good of you to remind us that they don’t know everything.” 

Templeton grinned from ear to ear blushing at the compliment. She scratched at the back of her neck nervously, “Aww c’mon, it wasn’t just me. Sterling did his bit too.” 

“An excellent look out and a first rate swindler.” Sage commented happily, “Finally we see some useful skills come out of this one.” 

It was half an insult, but I still smiled. 

“It was nothing. Templeton did all the important shit.” 

Everyone except Templeton nodded their heads at that, and she blushed again trying to bury her face in her book. Barristan pushed it away and slammed the alcohol he’d looted, no doubt from Cato’s chair down on the table. “She deserves a toast!” he declared. 

We all nodded. Anwen and Salem went to fetch glasses and Frigga herself poured out the whiskey into each of them; Templeton modestly protesting the whole affair. 

Frigga raised her glass, “Cheers to one of our hunters, one of our own. I myself had forgotten the insight, value and forethought she brings to every situation. Temple is willing to work harder than all of us to find things we might not even need until years down the line. She has done everything in her power to atone for mistakes and be an asset to the team, and today her skills shone brighter than they had in a while. To our dear, dear Templeton and her many, many books. Cheers.” 

“Cheers!” We all cried. The Hunters all slammed their glasses on the table before bringing them to their lips and I had to awkwardly follow their lead a second later. The whiskey burned my throat and it sent Templeton into a fit of coughing and sputtering until Anwen grabbed her a glass of water. I guessed it wasn’t her drink. She was still smiling as she climbed the stairs and went to her well decorated room to retire for the night. Frigga’s forgiveness toast must have lifted an enormous weight off her shoulders, and it was probably as close to a direct apology as she would ever get. 

I volunteered for first watch that night; I didn’t really like the idea of Veera being here and certainly didn’t want her snooping about. Until I knew for sure that she was asleep, there was no chance that I could ever be. I settled down beside the fires’ dying embers and kept one eye on the door and the other in the direction of the Sister. 

I was happy to say that all my skepticism and paranoia was unnecessary. When Anwen came down to relieve me the only thing that had changed was the fire which was now dormant. 

“You think the Altered Boys are ok out there?” I asked her as she settled into my spot. 

She nodded. 

I yawned and fell asleep shortly thereafter. When I woke and came downstairs, Sister Veera was seated at the table arms folded in front of her. She looked at the stairs as we each came down, eyes hovering for a second and then passing over each of us in turn, checking for Altered Boys. The lie about them being out on the hunt was about to come back and bite us in the butt. 

Cato had sobered up some since his outbursts last night, and was next to Veera trying to pry more information out of her. She wasn’t giving him so much as a second glance and ignored his questions completely. He was trying so hard to keep his temper in check. 

When Templeton descended the staircase Sister Veera turned away from her, perhaps even a little fearful. With her ink smudged glasses sweet temperament and unruly hair it was hard to imagine anyone being afraid of her. She hadn’t noticed. 

“Why haven’t the Altered Boys returned?” She questioned. I assume it was addressed to me but I made as if I hadn’t heard and sat down at the table next to Templeton to strike up a conversation with her. 

“Have you found any reason why Rook’s purging worked and other’s didn’t yet?” I asked. 

Templeton shook her head, “There’s a lot of abnormalities in the different cases. Each time the church tried to purge someone they went about it a different way so I’m trying to find common variables I can cross reference or eliminate; it just takes a bit of time when there are thirty eight different cases that merit comparison.” 

Conversation with Templeton worked just as I had hoped it would, as a shield against the Sister’s questions. She daren’t interrupt the scholar who’d bested her. I talked about everything that I thought might be helpful, but it was clear that Templeton had no concept of the fact I was dodging a conversation and started to become slightly annoyed at my awkward barrage of inquiries. 

“I’m never going to be able to get this done if you keep asking me stuff.” She finally said after about the fifth dozen question. 

“Sorry.” I said and turned away letting her get back to work. 

Sister Veera cleared her throat and asked her question again, “Why haven’t the Altered Boys come back yet?” 

I shrugged, “They’re not our pets or anything. We don’t call them in at 3 am and expect them to go to bed. They function as their own unit ma’am, and make choices about things like that themselves. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d already found out the clinic was cleared and began to set up shop there.” 

“Well that’s exactly what I need to speak with them about.” She said, “They have a few very hefty fees that need to be taken care of before I officially declare to Abbot Minimus that the space is clear and they are free to it.” 

“Fees?” Barristan asked slamming his coffee cup down on the table, “Hunters don’t charge each other fees for killing mad people.” 

“Correct.” Veera admitted, “But the church’s blood doesn’t come for free. Of course there is no charge in the event of an accident, but Rook was cured and many church hunters lost blood saving him. We of course need to be fairly compensated for this.” 

Barristan rolled his eyes. “That’s fucked up.” 

Sister Veera let out a huff, “Well whatever your assessment, I intend to advocate for our compensation at communion tonight so your friends better show up. There are plenty of woodland hunters whose blood supply is running low that would love some new hunting grounds.” 

“That, Sister Veera, is not your ground to give.” Templeton piped up. “A deal for it was already made, and witnessed by those at communion. I’ve got it logged and I’m sure several other recorders do so you’d be best to-“ 

“You’d be best to hold your tongue you little bookworm!” She spat, “You take so much pride in your little papers, but they could go up in smoke at any moment so you better just be careful what you say and who you say it too.” 

“Are you threatening one of my hunters?” Frigga asked. 

Sister Veera paused to consider this for a moment before replying, “No. Of course not, that would be ridiculous I was merely warning her to keep an eye out for fire hazards. She doesn’t really have the best track record.” 

Templeton flinched like someone had hit her. 

Frigga cracked her cane on the cobblestones, “Enough.” She declared, “The fire at Byrgenwyrth library was an unfortunate accident as was the loss of lives as a direct result. It was not intentional and it is not worth dwelling on or bringing up. Templeton has proven her worth and skill before then and since, everyone makes mistakes dear Sister, but I caution you not to make the mistake of threatening her ever again or you will have my Valkyries and all our allies to contend with. I will have Templeton pour over the books and scour them for any flaws because I am sure they exist. We will search every inch of every part of your life you ever wanted kept secret until we find something to hit back with. Maybe something happened in your childhood, or maybe you mixed something in with the silver polish so you could finally pull off a purge. Could it be that the church too is running out of blood and needs to ransom it from the boys they exiled?” 

“Just what exactly are you implying?” Sister Veera growled. 

Templeton smiled as she watched the battle unfold; all of the odds in Frigga’s favor. 

“I’m not implying anything; I’m simply saying that if you aren’t very, very nice to our dear little Templeton here, you’ll regret it very, very much.” 

“Well I never.” Sister Veera said then spun on her heels and strode out the open barricade. 

Cato and Barristan both spat in her direction after she had gone and was far away enough that they wouldn’t get yelled at for it. 

“That might backfire at communion.” Salem said apprehensively 

“I don’t think it will.” Frigga said, “It wouldn’t do for a hunter of hunters to admit that they’d been bested by a scholar. She’ll keep quiet, at least about that anyway. Everyone hurry and put that barricade back together. Templeton you can post a note outside the door if you like in case the Altered Boys come back, but we need to lock up. We’re all going to communion tonight.” 

A round of cheers went up from us, one especially enthusiastic and high pitched coming from Mouse. The desire to hunt was strong in a lot of them, but communion was a worthy adventure too. We took our blood vials, packed our weapons and donned clean outfits in preparation. Cato wanted to try and walk not eager for another round of sympathy and strange look from the other hunters. Frigga quickly cut this short by saying he could either sit down and go or stay home and stand. The choice was an easy one for him. 

Salem did another reading but apparently the results were inconclusive and she wasn’t able to warn us of any dangers we might have on the way. I hardly thought it would make a difference. Most of our gang of Valkyries was ready for a good brawl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	10. Chapter the Tenth :In Which We Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Always Please let me know what you think!

It was good to see the church packed again, and now that I knew what to expect I wasn’t half so intimidated by things. Cato took off almost immediately to go look for Rook, and Mouse went off in search of Frances and some of the other young hunters; Anwen following up dutifully behind him. We hadn’t brought any extra blood vials with us, which I assumed was partially out of spite for both the woodland and the church groups. Most of the city hunters were doing adequately blood supply wise. 

The twins and I headed for the banquet table where I’d met Fwahe for the first time. They found another seer, a woodland hunter named Parzival trying to fit two whole baked potatoes into his mouth at the same time. Templeton came over to the table with me, but she didn’t take any of the food she just examined the plates that they were on. Some of them were silver. She shifted a section of rib meat off one of the silver plates revealing a tiny seal on the edge. Templeton laid a bit of parchment over it and then rubbed some charcoal on top taking a tiny rubbing of the mark and stashing it in her commonplace book for later categorizing. 

We didn’t have a table to set up so everyone was just mingling. You could catch a glimpse of Frigga’s silver hair every now and again bobbing its way through the crowd. Templeton all but slammed her elbow into my gut at one point and we whirled around to see the Altered Boy’s bursting through one of the main entrances laughing and joking amongst themselves right with their normal energy. 

All of the Valkyries rushed to meet them, and I was relieved to see Larkspur amongst them, even though he was wearing gloves. They patted us on the backs and pulled us into hugs. Most of their skin was ice cold to the touch. Little Fla’rue was shivering a good bit but Cypress kept rubbing his shoulders and arms to get him warmed up. 

“Bloody shame you left right quick, we was nearly back and ‘Rue wanted to bring his violin here he did.” Cypress said. 

“Oh don’t bother them about that.” The tiny Altered Boy said through chattering teeth. 

“I think I can fix that, if you promise to play fast enough for us to dance too.” Salem said dashing off into the crowd once more. She brought back a dark ebony violin borrowed from one of her seer friends and handed it to the pale boy. He thanked her and started to play an energetic song that caught the attention of most of the other hunters in the room. 

Apparently Fla’rue had never played at a communion before, everyone was gasping and pointing. He had his eyes shut tight; I was sure there was still residual fear of the church seeing him play and continued to saw away at the stringed instrument. 

Frigga, with a devilish grin on her face, and a playful energy I’d never quite seen her in before, pulled Templeton into one of the clear spaces, books and all, and began to dance with her. Templeton giggled shyly and did her best to keep up. 

Others quickly joined in, none of them from the church. The woodland hunters had their own strange style of dancing that was all circles and leaps. They nearly collided with the others countless times before their steps were caught on to and that became the prevailing style. Mouse dragged a startled Frances out onto the floor and the pair got under everybody’s feet in a good natured sort of way and no one really seemed to mind. A dark haired city huntress with tan skin and deep brown eyes bowed to me politely then pulled me into the dance without waiting for me to accept. She grinned and spun me around and around leading me all the way through the steps until I caught on well enough to not step on anyone’s feet. 

She was really pretty and I tried to catch her name a few times, but there always seemed to be too much happening for me to keep a handle on. Before I knew it everyone was joining hands and making a huge circle around the band. Tiny Fla’rue had been joined by a few others and we spiraled outwards from them, circle after circle of dancing hunters. We were acting like children shouting and tapping our feet along to the impossibly fast music echoing through the raised ceilings of the church. The first church hunter to join the dance was a slim honey-haired boy who was dragged onto the floor by a wild little woodland hunter boy all done up with flower crowns and daisy chains. The huffs of contempt from the church hunters were drowned out by the music and cheers from the dancers already gathered. The big circles broke up when Fla’rue really went to sawing at it and only the fastest amongst us still tried to keep up. Everyone else stood around them in a big circle clapping their hands in time with the music. 

Frigga of course wasn’t going to back down from a rematch, and she swirled from partner to partner with the remaining hunters. It went from sixteen to eight in a few bars Fla’rue always seeming to be able to push faster than anyone thought possible. The flower festooned boy was trying desperately to keep time with her but he too dropped out. The city hunter who’d pulled me into dance and Frigga were the last two, dancing with each other throwing their hands up to clap at the right points, and a second later be holding hands and circling each other. Laughing she spun away from Frigga and joined me in the crowd smiling just as wide as ever. Frigga began to spin on one foot going around and around so wildly I thought she was going to spin out into the crowd. Fla’rue put everything he had left in him into that violin, but it had to be called a draw when one of the strings gave out on him with a snap and the whole room burst into applause. Cypress hefted the little violinist up onto his shoulders and others leaped up to try and clap him on the back or shake his hand. 

Fla’rue blushed like mad as he was carried around the room. I noticed that more and more hunters now stopped to bow when they approached the Altered Boys than ever before. Fla’rue sheepishly apologized to the seer who came over to collect her violin for breaking the string but she wouldn’t hear of it and just kept asking where he’d learned to play like that. 

The night would’ve had a perfect start if it wasn’t for Cato who lurked on the outskirts surveying the room and searching for Rook every chance he got. 

It was even worse when he found him. Sister Veera’s group entered the room after the big dance and walking sedately behind her were all the young hunters in training dressed in the thick white robes of the church. None of us recognized him at first, the one tuft of hair custom to hunters had been done away with and Rook’s hair now grew short and even and spikey on his head. He didn’t wear open vest nor inverted cross but the heavy garb of a church hunter and he had white gloves, the empty fingers stuffed with paper and tied tightly in the wrist area. 

Cato bee-lined for the group grabbing Rook by the neck of his robes and pressing his head against the boy’s chest. Rook looked down at him and surprise. 

“I missed you.” Cato muttered into the incense infused cloth. 

Rook pushed him away, “W-who are you?” He asked in alarm, all but hiding behind the robes of another boy. 

Cato’s face fell and you could almost hear his heart fall to the floor and shatter into a million pieces. “W-wh-what do you mean? R-rook it’s me. C’mon it’s Cato.” 

The other Altered Boys had joined him by this time. They were about to rush him with hugs and cheers but they saw his terrified face and paused, unsure. Cypress held a hand to stop Fla’rue from rushing forward to hug their lost brother. 

“Rook?” Larkspur asked leaning down so that their eyes met. “Rook don’t you know who we are.” 

Rook nodded, “Y..you’re the ones who poisoned me.” 

The Altered Boys’ faces’ clouded over with confusion. “Nobody’s poisoned you here Rook. It was the silver polish that did it. We didn’t.” 

“Sister Veera said you would say that.” Rook argued; gaining a little bit more confidence and coming out from behind his companion. “They told me you would blame them for everything when it was really you all along.” 

“They’re lying to you.” Cato cried. He reached into a pouch and pulled out the cleric beast tooth necklace that he’d given to Rook. Seeing it up close I noticed it had a heart etched into the one side of it. Hesitantly Rook took it and his whole face screwed up with concentration. He ran his fingers across it, wrapping the cord around his hand and then unwinding it. 

“Don’t listen to them.” The boy next to him said, “They’re trying to fool you.” 

“Shut up.” Rook said. He ran his hand over his short-cropped hair in thought. 

“They’re trying to trick you.” The other church hunter reiterated. 

“I said shut up!” Rook spat, finally sounding like himself again. Sister Veera intervened, placing a hand on Rook’s shoulder. 

“Come on, let’s move on there’s nothing for us here. I don’t want you talking with these people again, do you understand me?” She grabbed Rook’s chin and turned it sharply towards her so that he had to stare into her eyes. His whole body went rigid, you could practically feel the tension in your own bones. 

None of us knew what to say or do we’d never seen anything like this before. I was sure that there were plenty of other hunters watching and I wished that I could just turn back the clocks and live in the moments before for a little bit longer. Being on constant alert like this might kill me before the beasts did, there was always something out there to throw you for a loop and each was more horrible then the last. I just wanted us to catch a break. 

“Don’t listen to her.” Cato said. His voice made it sound like he was dying, it was raspy and strained and very weak. 

“Plus we needed to keep him under control, in case he was too turn again.” Her hand dropped from his chin and grabbed at a heavy iron collar that had been concealed by the heavy church robes. They’d kept him more like a pet then a person. 

The other Altered Boys would stand back no longer, they surged forward to break Veera’s grip, but were met and matched in size and strength by seasoned church hunters from Veera’s pack. All of us Valkyries had gathered. Frigga gave the nod, and we joined them at their sides. Veera too tried to put up matches for us, but Frigga was much quicker then she, dodging past the others. She stood between the both of them, having pushed Veera’s hands aside. They both looked up to her although she wasn’t particularly taller than either of them. 

“Just what exactly are you trying to accomplish here oh great hunter of hunters?” Frigga snarled, “This boy was to be healed by you not brain washed, undo what you’ve done to him at once.” 

Veera fixed our fearless leader with a sneer, “I’ve done just that, healed him with blood ministration. His blood were bad so we took that out. Then we realized his thoughts were bad too so we removed those as well. Boys loving boys, that sort of thing. Shouldn’t have an effect on his abilities as a hunter and who are we to protest if he ends up choosing the ways of the church?” 

“You can’t just change the brain of a person because you don’t agree with them!” Little Fla’rue squeaked. He tried to come forward but, the church hunter in front of him easily blocked his path and batted him aside. 

“He’s right you know.” Frigga said. 

By then the standoff had attracted the attention of the entire room, and Abbot Minimus had no choice but to make his way over. All of us wanted to win his favor, for the word of England’s leader would be final and absolute in matters like this and any future ones should they arise. He navigated his way through a parting sea of bowing hunters. 

Minimus sighed and adjusted his hunter’s hat before speaking. “What could possibly the issue now?” He asked. 

Frigga and Veera both stepped aside to reveal Rook. He stared at Minimus with enormous worried eyes. 

“A church boy?” Minimus asked in confusion. I felt my hands curl into fists, was he really so impartial to people he couldn’t remember the face of the boy who he’d taken fingers from? 

“He was one of ours sir.” Larkspur spoke up. “The one who they took to cure.” 

Realization passed across Minimus’ face, “Ah yes I see. I see.” 

“The church did something to his head, Sir Abbot.” Larkspur continued, “He don’t remember things as they really happened. He don’t know he’s supposed to come back with us, sir.” 

“Is this true Sister Veera?” The Abbot asked skeptically. 

“I may have instructed my healers to remove some additional impurities found in the brain, things we of the church consider immoral and unhealthy.” She explained. 

“That messes with all of the data.” Templeton mumbled irritably. 

“What the scholarly one says is correct.” Minimus asserted. 

Surprised that she’d even been heard, Templeton beamed with pride. 

“Your task was to cure him of beasthood not any kind of mental condition.” Minimus continued, “You may have just damaged the most important person in this entire room. This boy may hold the cure to all of these transformings and you thought it wise to go in and poke at his brain.” 

“Y-yes, Abbot.” Veera stammered, fear and doubt now clouding her visage. 

Minimus voice grew louder and angrier as he spoke, “Personally I don’t care if he ends up a church hunter or one of this strange lot, but I do care when medical advancements are tampered with.” Here Minimus turned towards Rook, “You, boy do you remember what they did to you?” 

Rook shivered but met Minimus’ gaze and shook his head no. 

“Old Gods be Damned!” Minimus shouted. His voice seemed to shake the whole church. 

“Sorry, Sir Abbot.” Rook squeaked. 

“You’re frightening him.” Cato growled. 

Minimus took a second and regrouped himself before turning to Cato, “Hunters ought not to be meek as church mice. Your Altered friends don’t cower in my presence not even the smallest of them, he’s clearly been changed, and isn’t suited to be even the most minor of Hunters. This boy wouldn’t stand a chance against a blood crab.” 

Cato’s heart broke again. 

“Wait…wait sir that’s just….not…I mean I think I can..” Templeton said as she leafed through her notebook, “I think we might be able to get him himself back. This could just be a temporary kind of shock brought on by a lot of sudden changes. Taking him away from his old life won’t help at all, sir.” 

“You’re saying if I place him in your care that you can undo any damage that has been done to his mind?” Minimus asked. 

Templeton took a second and swallowed nervously before answering, “Yes, sir, I expect I can.” 

Minimus banged the end of his scythe’s handle on the ground, “Very well then Scholar, the boy’s now in your care. See that he gets himself back and that you record a detailed account of everything that’s been done to heal him. I want this done as quickly as possible. Lady Frigga see that this one doesn’t shirk from the task. She’s forbade from hunting or attending communion until her work is finished.” 

Frigga bowed to him again, “Yes, Abbot.” 

He turned to the collective in front of him, “All of you hear me now. Whatever the Valkyries need we shall lend them our aid. If you ever want this hunt to end my brothers and sisters this cure must be pursued.” 

Nods and shouts of confirmation rang out across the hall. Twice Veera had been defeated by Templeton. We all beamed with pride. Frigga took Rook by the hand and led him back to his brothers. Minimus told us all that he needed a few minutes to collect himself before beginning communion. We all headed to our allotted spaces, but hung around unsettled; talking with the Altered Boys. 

They were overjoyed at the return of their lost brother, but Barristan had questions for them that all warranted answering. 

“So what kept you guys out so long?” Barristan asked. 

The Altered boys searched each other’s’ faces before landing on Beetle who spoke up to tell the tale. 

“We roamed the spots around the library awhile, took out some dogs and some crows nothing real big nothin’ real major just sort of scouting. We stuck together in one party but kinda spread out through shadows and over rooftops. We didn’t want to attract any kind of attention, but we needed to cover enough ground to find Larkspur and fast.” 

“I wasn’t really myself.” Larkspur cut in, “And I didn’t really know where to go. I didn’t want to freak anyone out and I’d…I’d started to turn just like Rook had…so I was just going to find someplace to off myself but I didn’t want any of you guys to find me.” 

“We started to head towards Cathedral Ward, since Yharnam was too big a place to attack all at once. We spent one of the nights we were out patrolling the path between here and there but we didn’t find him. Everyone was getting cold and hungry and frustrated. We were all so worried. We didn’t stop when the night ended we kept it up through the day time too, freaked out some denizens probably but we did our best to keep out of sight.” Beetle continued. 

“Where did you end up finding him?” Barristan asked 

“It was the second night, on the big bridge in Yharnam. Sovite had a dream about it.” Beetle said. 

One of the group came forward. He had fluffy hair the color of apple cider and was wearing a black scarf around his neck in addition to the traditional Altered Boy outfit. “I just saw this colossal bridge and knew we had to go there. I think it might be a little like your Salem, sometimes I just know things.” 

We all nodded, even Barristan though he seemed to look a bit more accusingly towards Sovite then the others. 

“Sure enough that’s where he was.” Beetle said, “We found him looking down over the edge. There’s nothin’ but an enormous sewer beneath the thing so we figured he might’ve though it a good place to…” 

“Jump.” Larkspur finished because no one else seemed ready to accuse him of attempted suicide. “They found me when I was writing things down. I wanted to explain that I just couldn’t stand to have my arms cut off or anything like that.” 

“We weren’t about to let him do that.” Sovite said, “We all rushed in and just told him about Templeton’s whole silver polish thing. It took some convincing but he listened.” 

“Unfortunately, a lot of the denizens saw us surrounding Larks so we had to hole up in the Church of Yharnam that night. Thank Kos you had cleared it out before. We were all tired and in no condition to travel but at least we’d all stuck together you know?” Beetle concluded. 

Whatever follow up questions we had would have to wait. The Abbot had collected himself and was once again standing in the center of the room waiting for things to settle down. We were so closely woven together at this point that we didn’t retreat back into the corners assigned us, but rather stayed at the forefront and sat together. Cato’s wheelchair was right beside Rook who hadn’t said anything since he’d been brought back to his brothers. 

Sovite was sitting with Sage and Salem, Barristan was still whispering questions to Larkspur and Beetle. Templeton had taken a spot as far forward as she dared, book open and quill at the ready. The persistent Thistle was right behind her holding an open inkwell for her. 

We all waited for Minimus to start things. I was curious if he was going to bring anything about the church’s corruption or Veera’s general bitchiness to light. He didn’t. 

His opening speech was all about the tournament which was to be held in a large field near Hemwick Charnel Lane. Many of the woodland hunters had banded together and were helping to clear out the place so that it would be safe for all attending denizens and hunters. They weren’t having any trouble according to the Abbot and all would be ready in time for the contest. When Minimus announced that any hunter would be allowed to compete excitement crackled through the room. It was kind of disturbing to see this kind of a thrill come over Mouse. He was just as excited for it as anyone, and this was one thing that Anwen wouldn’t be able to hold him back from. 

The subject of Vilebloods was brought up once again and everyone began to blame them for all of the disappearances again. More hunters had vanished, but dramatically less than before. Only fifteen had been taken, everyone keeping vigilant and being on high alert was serving the cause well. Minimus called upon any scholar who studied Cainhurst to come forth with floor plans or secret entrances that might be able to assist with the ambush when the war party was assembled. 

Many heads turned to Templeton, the Abbot’s included. She finished scribbling down a sentence then looked up and blinked in surprise when she realized everyone was looking at her. 

“S-sorry.” She stammered, “But architecture was never one of those things that fascinated me. The only things I know about Cainhurst are legends and some stuff about past rulers. I’m not the right scholar for building plans, Sir.” 

“I have a floorplan!” All eyes shot across to the other side of the room, back to Veera and her gaggle of white-robed recruits. They must have had a scholar of their own and she was able to produce the desired information. Templeton two, Veera one, the scoreboard still leaned in our favor. 

Thistle whispered words of encouragement to Templeton but she didn’t want to hear it. Fingers still stained with ink she rubbed away at her glasses more out of irritation than anything else. There was no way they’d ever get clean if she kept up polishing them with inky fingers. 

Frigga placed a hand on her shoulder and gave an encouraging nod. “Keep taking those notes.” She said. 

Templeton gave a weak smile and nodded, dipping her quill back into the inkwell and writing just as fast as ever to keep up with the conversation Minimus and the church scholar were having. That scholar wasn’t half so prepared as our Templeton. They produced a floorplan easily enough but when Minimus began to ask about specifics like where the Vilebloods might know about and what they were still in the dark about she couldn’t come up with any theories. Minimus took the map and said he’d have to have his strategists look it over. 

Blood shortages were getting worse and worse. Most of the woodland groups, at least those who weren’t able to lend their aid to the construction and clearing of the tournament grounds had only one or two hunters with them. They said most of the hunters in their packs were too weak to get up and fight anything. They pleaded for more than just their remaining coins’ worth of blood rations. 

The Abbot said that the communion coffers were unusually low and that nothing extra could be provided. A few of the hunters who had been at Minimus’ special meeting muttered something about overdosing Altered Boys. No one had the nerve to say it loud enough to cause a disturbance though. The newest gang was gaining support. 

Avans, the desperate one from before, was even more pale and worse off than I thought possible. Lots of accusing fingers were pointed in our gang’s direction once it was brought to light that we’d contribute a grand total of zero blood vials to the community coffers. 

Frigga stepped forward to explain. “Blood shortages seems to have taken precedent in the minds of nearly everybody here. It’s a newer problem but it has a lot of traction and support because you all deem it urgent and necessary. My group has been dwindling, I’ve requested new hunters, new recruits, even new territory but I was denied every time because other matters were more pressing. We cannot continue to supply you with blood vials if we haven’t the hunters to go out and get them. We haven’t been able to hunt since Rook turned, we devoted all of efforts into that problem. Nearly every group here is larger than ours, how can you expect us to sustain all of you?” 

“Perhaps a smaller territory would be easier for you to manage.” Avans offered, “Take to the woodlands, we would gladly exchange our lands for yours.” 

“After they’ve already been picked clean of all beasts? No. We can manage what we have if I only have enough hunters by my side, and all I’ve needed in the past was a dozen. I have strived to maintain that number but accidents happen. People die on the job, no one could have prevented Scarlett’s being taken or Alfie’s death. I don’t have enough hunters to send out as scouts; there is no way for us to have foreknowledge of these things. If you are going to rely on the Valkyries for blood then you’d best start to lend your ears to our needs as well.” 

“Are you saying you’re going to withhold your blood supply?” Avans accused fearfully. 

Frigga let out a sigh, “No, of course not. When we have extra to give it will be given. But at the moment we don’t, and pointing fingers does nothing to solve problems. I have put my best Scholar on the problem and she’s working towards a solution as fast as could be expected.” 

“We are aware of your efforts.” Abbot Minimus replied, “And feel no need for you to further justify your actions Lady Frigga. When those who were stolen are recovered we can see about sparing some to better fortify your library.” 

She nodded. The shortage matter was unresolvable. Some of the clans reported territory and resources being stolen by others. Minimus negotiated the return or compensation of stolen goods. He had to organize some of his own hunters into a kind of police force to handle the task, nobody said it but we weren’t exactly all too fond of the idea. No one was able to propose a more clever solution however so we dealt with it until further notice. Frigga wasn’t worried by this. We weren’t the ones who had to worry about blood running out. 

Sister Veera then came forward and spoke about the Altered Boys owing the church for curing Rook. She demanded that no less than one thousand vials of blood be paid by them at each communion for the following month. 

The Boys all but started a war on the spot. Abbot Minimus tried to dissuade Veera from her pursuit saying that Rook hadn’t been rehabilitated to his previous condition, but she brought forth a part of the contract that every hunting group had to sign before officially becoming part of the English battalion. Along with agreeing to allow the church to purge turning hunters if they were clearly attempting to find a cure, the contract also stated that if cured the hunter would have to repay the church for any damages or things broken. Veera advocated that the blood her hunters had given needed to be repaid, especially in the time of a shortage. 

Irritated, but clearly wanting to be free of the grip of the church once and for all, the boys started to try and negotiate with her. If they were to drain a thousand vials of their own blood every week they’d be liable to die themselves. Veera rolled her eyes as though the Altered Boys were morons for offering to give her exactly what she’d asked for. She didn’t want their blood at all, no she wanted beasts blood. 

“I don’t think that’s really a fair exchange Sister Veera.” Alfred said stepping into the matter. 

His opinion was seconded by many including Fwahe and the rather sensible Gaines. 

“The purpose of that contract was never to exploit hunters for blood.” Alfred argued, “It was more along the lines of property, like if they broke a crucifix or something.” 

“It’s open to interpretation.” Sister Veera argued, “And this is the compensation I wish to receive and the interpretation I choose to take this contract by. I assure you I am well within my rights to demand what I have and if anyone wishes to challenge me, so be it, but you will not find any loopholes in the church’s part of this contract. The Altered Boys will pay or they will have to leave this society of hunters and cede their territory to the church.” 

“Over my dead body.” Beetle snarled, and this was echoed by the rest of the boys. “You’re not going to take our new home from us before we’ve even set foot in it. I challenge you right here right now to a duel. If I lose then fine we pay your vials, hell we’ll throw in an extra five hundred a week, what the hell. If you lose, not only will you leave us alone but any or all nonexistent bullshit concocted debts will be null and void. You will have to see us as a group of hunters like any other here and give us all the bowing and respect that we’ve earned.” 

Sister Veera smirked, she had probably anticipated a response like this. “Does anyone object to this matter being settled in combat?” 

Nobody made a sound, not even Minimus. Our curiosity got the best of our brains. I’d never really seen two hunters go at each other. I was sure that Veera would be a formidable opponent but Beetle had a lot more riding on his shoulders and the conviction that he was doing what was right. That could be a powerful ally. 

“Fine then, I’ll accept on one condition. I don’t want to fight you, I want to choose who I do battle with.” 

All of the Altered Boys stood up and puffed out their chests trying to look like worthy opponents despite the fact that many of them were rail thin. 

“Done.” Beetle said, though he was clearly disappointed that he wouldn’t be the one leaping into combat. “But Rook’s out of bounds, he’s clearly not fit to fight.” They shook hands. 

Hunters began to move up into the upper floors packing the balcony and clearing room for the fight to take place. We were amongst the last to ascend the staircase, partially due to Cato’s wheelchair. She still hadn’t made her choice as we crowded around the railings in nervous anticipation. 

“She’s going to go for the sure victory.” Salem said, “She’s bound to target Fla’rue.” 

“Choose the smallest hunter? In front of everyone? You’ve got to be kidding me she’d rather die of embarrassment.” Cato protested. “If she wants to make a statement like this she ought to go for Larkspur, he’s the biggest.” 

Not everyone possessed Cato’s sense of honor or opinions when it came to combat though. The Altered Boys had completely faith in their brothers but even so there was a sinking feeling that welled up in all of our stomachs when Salem’s last minute prediction turned out to be true. Sister Veera had chosen the smallest hunter to go up against. 

“Coward!” Fwahe’s voice rang out across all others from the balcony. 

Veera glanced up spitefully at her, but didn’t change her choice. 

Fla’rue grabbed his spear and the rest of the boys headed up to the balcony to watch, they shouted cheers and encouragement seemingly undaunted by the match up. 

Sister Veera removed her twin blades, blades of mercy Templeton informed me, from her sleeves and crouched into a better stance. For once Templeton wasn’t looking at her book at all, her eyes were glued to the lower floor. 

Fla’rue held out his spear and the two began to circle each other. I couldn’t tell from this high up whether or not he looked frightened, but I had to imagine it wasn’t something he faced in full confidence. Cypress wasn’t shouting along with his brothers, he looked over the railing with concern. Anwen had hoisted Mouse up onto her broad shoulders for a better view. 

It happened in instant. Sister Veera moved so quick she seemed like lightning, she darted towards Fla’rue’s right, his spear lagging behind just a second too short giving her an opening. She didn’t get a chance to capitalize, as soon as Fla’rue saw what was coming he dipped his spear point into the grout between two cobblestones and used it as a pole to vault himself away. Veera had accomplished nothing but a change of position. 

We howled in triumph from the balconies. 

“Come on ‘Rue Attaboy!” Thistle hollered. 

While Veera’s back was turned, Fla’rue lunged for it. She dodged to the side and spun around to face him again. She’d lunge, and he’d pole vault away. He was younger and more nimble, clearly he was trying to tire her out. Every time he dodged one of her attacks it made her more and more furious. 

She got clever though, she made as if she were going to lunge and Fla’rue vaulted again in anticipation, but rather then carry out her attack she threw one of her knives. It sailed through the air and embedded itself in Fla’rue’s left hand. He yelped, and his grip faltered, the pole wobbled and he lost control of his momentum, slamming down hard into one of the pews. 

Veera saw her opening and was on him in seconds. She slashed at him with her knives impossibly fast. Fla’rue used the handle of his staff to block the blows as best he could, but she got in a few cuts here and there. She chased him between two pews until he came out from between the benches. 

He got to his feet and jabbed at her with his spear, connecting with her shoulder and sending her staggering backwards. Now both of them had wounds running with blood. Fla’rue let out a scream, his voice cracked and it was hardly audible but it screwed up his face into a snarl and the anger he now felt was apparent. He kept the sister at pole’s length now, steadily moving her backwards, jabbing at her foot or arm or whatever and forcing her to back away. Sometimes he connected and sometimes he didn’t, he was trying to get her into a corner where she wouldn’t be able to reach but he could. 

Veera lured him into the false security of having the upper hand. Fla’rue made a jab for her ribs and she dodged but grabbed his spear in both hands and yanked it out from the stunned Altered Boy’s grasp. 

“I’ve disarmed you now, give up!” she spat at him. 

Fla’rue was shaking, but he didn’t make any response. He took a deep breath and rushed her, running and diving for his spear. She jerked it away. 

In grabbing his spear she’d had to drop her knives and they lay on the cobblestones perfectly available. If the sister was going to try and trick him, Fla’rue decided he would have to trick her instead. 

He grabbed the handle of one of her blades instead of truly trying for the spear. He ended up, blade in his injured hand, behind Veera’s back. She was turning to face him but he got the drop on her. Jumping up and grabbing at her injured shoulder with his good hand, he pulled her down and stood over her, holding her own knife to her throat. 

His voice cracked, but he still shouted, “Give up!” 

She ignored him completely, one of her free hands shot up and squeezed Fla’rue’s injured hand until he howled with pain and dropped the knife. She flipped him over, she was on top of the little 

Altered Boy now; one hand firmly gripping his injury. She planted her other on his shoulder and slammed him repeatedly into the cobblestones, trying to knock him out. 

“I’m…going…to…kill…you!” We all heard her shout punctuating each word with another slam into the floor. 

Something started to change with Veera. Her eyes turned yellow and started to glow. The hands that were holding down Fla’rue split into claws, and her back arched and cracked as it twisted into something grotesque. Her legs slid backward and then they cracked and shifted too until they were more like an animal’s; jointed in that weird manner of dogs and deer, and other four-legged creatures. 

She as no longer human. Her neck was unfathomably long and her ears had mutated into wolves ears. She was some kind of enormous canine creature; the white robes she had once worn now wrapped around her in shreds like failed bandages. She had grown to the size of a cleric beast. 

She slammed her enormous paw down on Fla’rue. Something snapped. 

We hesitated no longer, she’d turned and in the absolute worst place one would’ve found themselves if they were a beast. There was no chance of purging this one, nothing had happened to indicate that a transformation was coming. She was and then she wasn’t. 

Hunters reached for their pistols but Fwahe outpaced them all. She leapt from the balcony railing and onto the mutant Veera’s head, diving her enormous sword into the beast’s brain. It was dead before it hit the floor. 

“Holy fuck.” I said, “What was that?” 

Templeton seemed just as confused as I was and we stared, jaws dropped at the enormous beast bleeding out on the cobblestone floor. 

Hunters rushed down the stairs and over the balcony, swarming the slain creature. They all began to find holes and drain blood filling vial after precious vial. The Altered Boys scurried down to aid Fla’rue, and it took all of their collective strength to pry the deadweight of Veera’s paw off the tiny hunter. In all actuality they couldn’t manage to lift it clear and Cypress ended up shimmying Fla’rue free by grabbing him under the arms and pulling him inch by inch out of the reach of the paw while the others held it up. 

If he was dead I didn’t want to see him. I stood still in a tidal wave of moving bodies, they poured over and around me. Some of them were panicking trying to make sense of what had just happened. The majority were collecting blood. The more seasoned hunters, people like Minimus and Gaines stood on the outer edges of the commotion and eyeing the church with suspicion. After every drop of available blood was corralled into a vial, some even trying to preserve what had already spilled on the floor, reality began to set in. 

Fwahe was undaunted by it all. Instead of taking blood she started asking people whether they still wanted the body or not. No one really understood what she was on about. Templeton had come back to reality, and was making as detailed a sketch as possible of the creature and rushing around trying to get an exact vial count, and taking equally thorough notes. 

Everyone was trying to regroup and collect themselves. Cypress and Beetle started shouting for a medic and some of the city and woodland hunters rushed to their aid. None of the church hunters moved; they were all sort of corralled into a corner by the others. Alfred was amongst them trying to calm down a large group of mixed lone hunters who had their weapons drawn and had herded all of the church hunters together. 

Abbot Minimus was doing a fairly good job of keeping things under control. He organized a group to gather up the vials and count them for proper distribution. He put Fwahe in charge of a body removal squad since she seemed so keen on being let at Veera’s corpse. Lady Frigga meandered through the crowd. When she found one of us she’d tap us on the shoulder and tell us to go over to the Altered Boys. It was the last place I wanted to go but I followed orders and we stood with our pale allies as they anxiously waited for the medics to give their verdict. They were all there except Rook, and we were all there except Cato. They’d both stayed up in the balcony. It was a sensible choice, Rook shouldn’t have to handle much more shock. 

When the medics stepped back, we were horrified. Fla’rue’s whole body was bruised beyond belief, and his left leg must’ve been what we heard snap. It was clearly broken. His breathing was worse than Cato’s had been; permeated periodically by violent coughing. Nearly every cough brought up blood and it gurgled and leaked from his mouth in red rivulets. 

“He’s alive then?” Cypress said looking down at the injured body with unshakeable hope. 

“In all technicality I suppose.” A city medic responded. His hands were dripping with Fla’rue’s blood and he had a grey apron over his clothes equally drenched, “But he’s unlikely to last long. That leg’s busted and there’s significant damage to his spinal cord. That’s undeniable. He’s coughing up blood which is never really a good sign and as of the moment he’s unconscious. It’s your call but you’d be better off to just let me finish the job.” 

All of the Boys stepped forward in defense of their brother. 

“You’re a doctor, don’t kill him fix him goddamnit!” Beetle demanded. “The hell are you standing around for?” 

The medic rolled his eyes, but returned to Fla’rue’s battered body. Imogen placed a comforting hand on Cypress’ shoulder. 

“I should have kept my mouth shut.” Beetle muttered. 

“No one could’ve predicted this.” Sovite said, “No one saw it coming.” 

Beetle just growled at him. He went over to one of the nearby stone archway columns and slammed his fist into it repeatedly. He might’ve slammed it into the seer if stone hadn’t been available. 

“You shouldn’t let him carry on like this.” Barristan said, “This is no way for a Hunter to live.” 

“Hush up Barristan.” Imogen hissed, “It’s way too soon to say anything like that.” 

“It’s not soon enough, Cato’s miserable all the time and he has to wait like what two weeks maybe til he’s altogether. This kid might never be good again, would you still want to live if you couldn’t walk or breathe right?” 

“They’re medics. They’re going to be able to heal him.” Larkspur said calmly. 

“Of course they are.” Imogen assured them, “They know what they’re doing. People have survived worse.” 

“Ridiculous.” Barristan said storming off to go help mediate matters with the church hunters. 

Mouse didn’t really understand what had gone on. One second he was cheering for his friend and then there was that nightmarish transformation. That shit was going to haunt me for the rest of my life; I couldn’t imagine what it might do to Mouse. He was startlingly unaffected by the whole thing, he was just worried for Fla’rue. He said it would be sad if nobody ever danced again. 

“She fucked up his hand real bad, she did.” Cypress said, “She didn’t want him to play no more.” 

We all nodded. It was easy to talk shit about Sister Veera now that she was dead and wasn’t going to be coming back to hurt us anytime soon. It was the easiest thing to focus on, finally someone to blame for everything. The night wore on, many medics switched out and had others step in but the city hunter in the grey apron, Callum, worked in group after group. For all his earlier cynicism it didn’t seem like he was ready to throw in the towel just yet. 

A lot of our group drifted off. Abbot Minimus had called communion back into session and was establishing a quarantine and investigation into Sister Veera’s sector. She was retroactively discharged from the hunters of hunters. Her followers were all arrested. Whether guilty or not, Minimus wanted to make sure he didn’t have to worry about them turning anymore. A few of the groups paying attention suggested a mass execution, but no one really felt like swinging the axe for a second time today. 

No other matters were discussed. No one cared about anything else, and once they figured out that there was nothing more they could offer or do they left. Bit by bit at first but then they just filed out of the church in massive bunches. Frigga sent Barristan, Mouse, Imogen and Anwen home. Cato, and by proxy Rook, decided to go with them. She wanted to include me in that group as well, but I was invested by this point and curious to see how Fla’rue was going to end up. He hadn’t stopped breathing yet and it had been a few hours since Veera was slain. They’d done all they could but he still hadn’t improved much. The bleeding had been stopped and they were able to treat the wounds on his hands and the other minor scrapes and scratches Veera had given him. They also reset his leg and it was bound in an iron brace that looked rather painful. He still coughed up bits of blood every half hour to forty five minutes, and they said there was nothing they could do for that. Callum suspected that if he lasted through the night he’d continue to live, but there was no way of knowing if he’d ever regain consciousness. The medics offered to help carry him to the clinic that the Altered Boys finally had inherited but they declined. 

Desperate for familiar surroundings, they pleaded for Frigga to let them stay at the church for the night and she agreed. Beetle, Larkspur, Cypress and Callum who insisted on coming with us to monitor Fla’rue’s condition all bore the stretcher that carried him back to our hideout. Moving him was dangerous, and if he was carried by a single person there was a much greater chance of accidental injury. 

We had to take an above ground route as well; the sewers were too full of infection and disease according to Callum and if the wounds hadn’t killed him yet taking him down into the sewer surely would. Frigga, Templeton and I along with the remaining Altered Boys spread out in front of the stretcher-carriers protecting them from any of the beasts we came across. I was surprised when I found myself thinking that it was nothing major when we came across, giant rats, hellhounds and a couple of crows. They were more commonplace and less terrifying then they used to be. 

Getting back to the library, a place that used to be so strange and unfamiliar, was now a welcome retreat. Getting everyone inside and the door re-barricaded felt like coming home and locking the door behind you. Nothing could crush us here. 

Callum and the Altered Boys settled down in their nests to keep Fla’rue under observation for the rest of the night. Rook and Cato were by the fire, warming their hands. Rook had changed out of the church robes and back into the vest and pants of a proper Altered Boy. He had the upside down cross on his chest too, I expect that Cato must’ve painted it there. The iron collar was still around his neck, and his eyes looked glazed over and far away. 

Templeton was starting to spread out all of her notes and books over one section of the dining table, a pot on the hearth heating up water for coffee in preparation for the sleepless night ahead of her. Frigga wasn’t having it. She lifted Templeton out of her seat by the armpits and carried her over to the stairs. 

“You need to sleep.” Frigga told her. 

“But I need to figure out what’s going on and see if I can find something to help Fla’rue and and…”Templeton stammered and continuing to list other things that warranted foregoing sleep. 

“You. Need. To. Sleep.” Frigga asserted. 

“I can sleep when I’m dead.” Templeton mumbled but went to bed all the same. Frigga was thorough, she took Templeton’s box of matches so that she couldn’t cheat and keep working on things in her study room. I didn’t need my matchbox taken away. I went to sleep of my own volition. 

I had a horrific dream that night, and the source of it was obvious. In the dream I was standing in the center of the communion room and everyone else was packed into the balconies. They were all transforming, shifting back and forth between their human and beast forms. There were sounds of bones breaking and cracking pulsating in an orchestra of repulsive sounds. I woke up in a cold sweat and stayed in my hammock waiting for my heart to stop pounding. I had to wait for my eyes to adjust, and for my brain to break through the fog, thinking logically and remembering where I was. 

I sluggishly came down the stairs, twitching at every creak in the floorboards. My nightmare must’ve kept me trapped for a pretty long time. Everyone had either skipped breakfast or eaten it already and they were going about their daily tasks. I caught sight of Callum smoking a pipe and chatting with Barristan. Concerned but hopeful, I raced around past the main room to the Altered Boy’s alcove. Leaning up against Cypress’ side was the tiniest of Altered Boys. His skin was pale, as usual and he coughed when he saw me. Blood came out with the cough and it was quickly wiped away with a cloth held by Cypress. 

“How the hell?” I muttered then changed tone dramatically and yelled “I can’t believe you’re alive!” 

Fla’rue smiled at me, “S-s-she..c-c-co….i…” 

He couldn’t get the words out between coughs. It was agonizing to watch and I instantly regretted trying to start a conversation with him. 

“He’s way too weak to speak.” Cypress informed me. “And he won’t listen to the doc and just keep quiet.” 

Beetle was nearby and he looked so relieved to see Fla’rue with his eyes open. “He’s our little fighter. Fla’rue Wolfsbane is what we ought to start calling him.” 

Fla’rue started laughing but it became coughing almost instantly. “Shh.” Cypress said, running his fingers through the tiny hunters’ hair in attempt to get him calmed down. 

Callum came over carrying a bowl of broth. He handed it off to Cypress who spoon fed it to his tiny charge. “He’s got like a fifty fifty chance. I’m not a surgeon so I can’t let out any of the pressure or blood or shit that may have built up inside of the little guy. We could try and track one down but if he’s going to die then he’ll have done it before anyone of a suitable caliber could be called in. Those guys don’t work for bloodvials so good luck.” He spun on his heels and headed out the barricade. 

“Thanks Doc” The Altered Boy’s chorused. If there was any chance of Fla’rue’s survival they’d monitor him around the clock for as long as was necessary. 

It got to the point where his coughing was getting to rough and raspy for me to listen to comfortably and I drifted away. Templeton had come down and she was talking to Rook. I caught a little bit of what they were saying, but wished I hadn’t. 

Apparently Sister Veera had friends who had worked with bolt paper in the past, and medics had found that there was a connection between the electricity caused by lightning and most major brain functions. Veera had been trying to just zap out the bits of Rook’s brain she didn’t want there with bolt-charged metal rods. She conditioned him in a similar manner, trying to get him to avoid certain things. Every time that Cato touched him, he flinched. Overall though he was speaking more, it was in a kind of detached and shy way, he didn’t at all sound like the person who’d been poking fun at Cato days before but at least he wasn’t so silent. 

“What do you think Fwahe wanted that corpse for?” Barristan asked cutting into my thoughts and placing a hand on my shoulder, giving a slight push and leading me away. 

“I don’t know.” I said, “She’s always doing weird stuff is this really like an abnormality?” 

“Abnormal is putting it lightly when it comes to her. I know everyone was all caught up with dancing and junk light that last night but I was talking to people and there’s rumors out there Sterling that some of the hunters are in leagues with the Vilebloods, possibly even turned themselves.” 

“Who’s saying that?” I asked. 

“Shit kid, wake up, everyone’s saying it. I know you’re clean because you don’t even know enough to have become one of them if you wanted too. You n’ me Sterling we’ve got to keep an eye out.” 

“I don’t really even know what Vilebloods are.” I admitted. “No one’s bothered to fill me in on that yet.” 

Barristan looked over his shoulder and when he was assured of the fact that no one was watching us he took me upstairs and into his room. It was similar to Templeton’s in the fact that he’d installed shelving but it lacked any overall style. Barristan seemed to select things for purpose rather than appearance. He pulled a book from one of the shelves and slammed it down onto his bed. He sat down on one end, the side with his pillow and I climbed onto the other. 

The cover of the book was nearly as unsettling as Fwahe’s eyes. The book made it look like there was a human trapped inside, a hand and a face were straining against the flesh colored leather cover, like they were trying to escape. The hand and face, by some clever bit of bookbinding were three dimensional. They came out at you. It was horrifying. 

Barristan pulled it towards him and opened it nonchalantly. “Vilebloods are inhuman monsters.” He began reading, “Their cult began at the same time as the hunt, but whereas noble hunters went out to defend their towns against beasts, the Vilebloods set out to foil their plans. Far worse than the mindless beasts slain in droves these revolting creatures went after humans with their minds still fully functional. They are hell bent on devouring humans, especially those that are perceived to have strong blood. Hunters are popular targets.” 

“Great. More things that want to kill me.” I muttered. 

“Pay attention.” Barristan chastised slamming the book shut to get my attention, “Vilebloods were put under control by church executioners a few years ago, once they got all holed up in Cainhurst the executioners disbanded. They assumed that Vilebloods weren’t going to be a problem anymore but all of those Vanisher carriages bear the symbol of Cainhurst. Someone’s got to be tipping them off, and I think I’ve figured out who.” 

“Who?” I asked 

“It’s got to be Fwahe, that crazy one with the antlers.” Barristan said, “I’ve been observing her and a few others as close as I can and it just makes sense. She knows how to get in to this hideout and she probably knows the same about others. You never see her until it’s too late, she sneaks everywhere and she’s tried to dissuade us from mounting an assault on Cainhurst.” 

“That is true.” I murmured. 

It was a lot to take in all of a sudden. Fwahe had brought fifty blood vials with her the first time she’d scared the life out of me at communion. That hadn’t stood out to me before but now it seemed a little odd. How had one hunter managed to accumulate that much blood all by herself? If she wasn’t consuming any herself then things started to make a little bit more sense. 

“If she is though, and that might be a bit of an if, what do you want me to do about it?” I asked. 

“Well help me kill her of course.” Barristan said as though I’d asked him whether Templeton knew how to read or not. 

My face screwed up in confusion, he had to know I couldn’t hold my own against two hellhounds let alone a seasoned Hunter. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” 

“Don’t worry.” Barristan reassured me, “You’re not going to be doing most of the fighting. I just need well…someone to use as bait if you need the truth.” 

“Gee thanks.” I muttered. 

“I’m not going to let you get killed.” Barristan said 

“Oh the same way you didn’t let Alfie get killed?” I shot back. 

This was hitting below the belt. I knew that. But if he was going to ask me to put my life on the line, he ought to be able to protect it. Barristan’s face screwed up in a mixture of guilt and anger. His hands curled into fists, but he waited a few minutes for his temper to go down before he spoke. 

“That wasn’t on a mission like this.” He explained, “I had no way of knowing that there was going to be a mad hunter at the clinic, you can’t blame me for that.” 

He had a point, I really couldn’t. Didn’t make me feel any more confident about aiding him in his endeavors though. 

“Come on Sterling.” He pleaded, “Listen you help me out with this, right here, right now and I swear to you on the way back we’ll swing by your old stomping grounds and I’ll let you see your little girlfriend again.” 

“Mallory isn’t my girlfriend.” I said, almost chuckling. If he had offered this same bribe to me a few days ago I would’ve jumped at the bait and taken off with him that very second. Nowadays though my old city was becoming a distant memory, it was like someone had chosen to make it go out of focus and at the same time sharpen up the church. I had a new family now and some part of me felt sick to my stomach about slipping away from them in the middle of the night. 

“Kos above Sterling! Just do me a damn favor.” Barristan said. 

The more time I took to make up my mind, the angrier he got. I didn’t really want an angry hunter up my ass about everything. I mean I didn’t want to die either, but having to try to awkwardly interact with Barristan after denying him a request of this magnitude seemed like a fate worse than death. I was certain that Barristan could make this life hell for me if he really wanted to. 

“Yeah, ok sure.” I said. 

We shook hands and I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that I had just made a deal with the devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	11. Chapter the Eleventh: In Which Mistakes are Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is Barristan up too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always please let me know what you think!

“We’ve got to move now and we’ve got to move fast.” Barristan said. He pushed aside one of his bookshelves revealing a tiny door in the wall. It was part of an old dumbwaiter system. 

“I don’t even have my axe with me Barristan just wait a minute ok?” I asked. 

He shook his head and handed me a few knives from the set he kept on his bedside table. “There’s no time Sterling. If they all saw you go and get your weapon here they’d be suspicious. We have to move before anyone even notices we’re gone.”’ 

He moved to a position that blocked my way to the door of his tiny room. He held out his hand and gestured towards the dumbwaiter door. What choice did I have? 

I crawled inside the tiny space and it began to raise itself. Barristan must have hit a switch someplace. I found it odd to be traveling upwards, if we were going to be sneaking out of the library it made more sense to go down and slip through one of the barricades. The dumbwaiter dropped me out on the third floor. I crawled out quickly glad to be free of the claustrophobic conditions and I hit a switch on the wall to send it back to Barristan. He came through seconds later and motioned for me to follow him. 

Barristan led me to a broken window and we climbed out through it and onto a small ledge. It was wide enough to walk on but I had to keep from looking down too much or I’d lose my nerve. We went around the ledge and hopped onto the roof of a nearby building. It was in this manner that we continued through Yharnam. The only things that ever made it onto the rooftops were crows. 

Until the crows actually noticed you they were easy to avoid. Even if they did notice you it took them a little while to muster their strength and jump at you. We could just run past them and we didn’t stop to slay any. We had been going at a fast clip for a good distance before the houses started to thin out and a large forest came into focus. 

“The Forbidden Woods.” Barristan said to me, “If she’s hiding anywhere it’ll be in there.” 

“Are they forbidden for a reason?” I asked. 

He didn’t bother to answer me beyond a simple “Keep an ear out for any hissing.” 

I had no idea what he meant but I followed him as he jumped down off the roof and into the forest. There were a lot of large trees with gnarled vines winding around them. The smell of decay was in the air, and I deduced that there must have been a bog nearby. The moonlight could barely find its way between the branches making the whole area dark and oppressive. I wanted to turn tail and run. 

“What are we looking for?” I asked Barristan in hushed whispers. 

“I think they live in abandoned houses, there’s a little village that the Vilebloods ate up awhile back. If she’s anywhere it’ll be there.” 

As we went deeper into the woods things started to become less rooted and reality and more of the things you’d find in dreams. A mysterious brick pathway overgrown with moss and vines would appear sporadically between the tree trunks. Barristan and I followed this at first, but it would just vanish after a while. We’d kicked away some of the moss with our boots to see if maybe there were sections that had just become completely overgrown but that wasn’t the case. The path was and wasn’t. It twisted and turned on itself leading us in a few circles before we gave up and decided to abandon it. 

The strange path wasn’t all that made you wish you’d never set foot here. Towering as tall as the trees were enormous gravestones. I couldn’t translate any of their inscriptions, but wherever we spotted one it dominated the landscape. Sometimes there were smaller gravestones placed near the colossal ones, big as cleric beasts, other times not. There’d be huge clusters of them and we’d slip our way in between the stones. 

“What made these?” I asked Barristan. 

Instead of a reply he put one finger to his lips, then pointed with his other hand. There was a clearing not too far from us, and it glittered like a precious gem. This was the only place full of light we’d seen in a while. I was about to head towards it, figuring that’s where Barristan wanted us to go when I saw something emerge from the shadows. 

It wore a coat much like mine and carried a long serrated blade, the kind of thing two lumberjacks might have used between the both of them to saw through a giant tree. This was no lumberjack. I wasn’t really sure what it was because where it’s head and face should be was an explosion of reptilian coils, snakeheads and other assorted nightmarish animal parts that didn’t belong on the human body by any stretch of the imagination. 

The hissing that Barristan had warned me about now had its source - the terrifying snake-person in the clearing. 

“Barristan what the fuck?!” I asked as quietly as I could. 

It wasn’t quiet enough. The snake thing turned its head towards us and began to charge; lumberjack saw dragging the ground behind him. 

“Keep calm kid. Hold your ground.” Barristan instructed. 

Heart practically pounding out of my chest, I locked my legs and tried to keep from bolting. My eyes darted between the snake beast and Barristan. He had taken out his throwing knives and was waiting for the right moment. As soon as the beast was in range Barristan assaulted him with a barrage of sharpened silver knives. The beast was slain before it had the chance to touch us. 

Barristan ruffled my hair before heading towards it to recollect his knives. “Good work newblood.” 

We only had one or two more scares before we reached the abandoned village. The snakes used trees as their main nesting spots and breeding grounds. If you weren’t careful a knotted mass of snakes would tumbled out of the branches, aiming straight for your head. That must’ve been how the transformations took place. I triggered two of the snake bombs by accident, but Barristan was quick to push me out of the way and went to great lengths to make sure he stabbed every snake in both eyes. He was very careful not to get bitten. 

By all accounts Barristan was as cautious and as capable as any of the other Hunters in our group. When we crept through the gate and into the village he had one of his knives at the ready. He told me to pick up a few rocks and I threw one into the center of the packed dirt street. Nothing hissed and nothing came out of the houses to try and kill us. 

There were nine houses, three on the left, three on the right and the remaining three were in front of us forming a kind of semicircle dead end at the back of the village. 

“Ok Sterling, here’s how it’s going to go down.” Barristan whispered to me. “I’ll go to each of the houses, open the door and toss in a stone. If there’s a Vileblood in there they’ll come out, and I want them to spot you. You’ll be standing in the center of the street. They’ll see you but I’ll be dodged out of the way. I’ll be able to finish anything off before it gets to you. Anything including Fwahe. All you need to do is stand there.” 

He pointed to a spot in the center of the village. I nodded, and headed towards it on shaky wobbly legs. Just as I was turning my head back over my shoulder to see which door Barristan was opening first, I felt the ground beneath me snap like a rotted floorboard. The ground dropped out from under me and I plummeted down into a large pit. 

“Barristan!” I shouted, “Barristan help it’s a trap!” 

I regretted screaming instantly. I wasn’t alone in this pit. 

“Suppose I might as well tell you now.” Barristan said. I looked up and saw him sitting on the edge of the pit, dangling his feet over the edge. “I am sorry that it had to be you Sterling but there wasn’t time to find anyone else and she needed to feed.” 

He tossed a lit Hunter’s lamp down into the pit and it exposed everything that was hidden in darkness. The first thing I noticed is that the ground was littered with bones and torn clothing. There were skulls as well, the bones must’ve been human. At the far end of the pit, was a malnourished and hideously unkempt child. The light caused her to look up, and she didn’t have the eyes of any kind of child I’d laid eyes on. She was blind the way some nocturnal creatures were blind and you could tell by her enormous milky white eyeballs. Long tendrils of white hair were matted all over her head and she wore a dress that had started out white but was now covered in mud and grass stains. She had an iron collar around her neck that was attached to a chain and a peg embedded deep within the pit’s walls. 

“I’m not as careless as they all think I am.” Barristan said, “But those filthy Vilebloods turned my little sister. Minimus found out of course and well one thing led to another. I had to fake a killing, you couldn’t really expect me to off my kid sister. They bought that shit of course and I thought things were good for a while.” 

The little girl in the corner was starting to regain a sort of consciousness and she began unfolding herself from her crouched position. 

“I’m sorry.” She said softly. She looked up into the darkness, “Hello Barristan.” 

“Hey Sasha.” He said, “Missed you.” 

“Missed you too.” She replied. 

“She got hungry though.” Barristan continued, “And well Sommers was starting to get on my nerves anyways so he took about the same long walk you just did. In fact you probably have your elbow in his ribs about now. Sasha’s got a great appetite, she don’t leave a whole lot except the bones.” 

“Mom said never to waste.” She added. 

“That’s right.” Barristan nodded, “Alfie was in the wrong place at the wrong time, never really set out to off him but it felt like a shame to waste all that blood. Wasn’t really any different then everyone soaking up Veera’s blood the other night when you really think about it.” 

Realization hit me harder than a cleric beast slamming you against the wall. My turn to be the main course. 

“You don’t have to do this, I won’t tell anyone.” I stammered. 

“Yeah and Sasha will make sure you don’t. Look usually it’s a lot easier than this Sterling and I can just trap some unwitting woodland hunter, but they all got cautious when blood started to dry up and desperate times as they say.” 

Sasha stood up and was starting to slowly come closer to me. I looked up at the walls but there weren’t any overhanging roots or vines I could use to try and scrabble to safety. Dried bloody trails still remained from when others had tried to claw their ways out. That strategy hadn’t paid off. 

“Now you can’t really expect me to stick around and watch my little sister devour you; it’s kind of unsettling really. She’s a Vileblood and she’s really only supposed to drink you dry but well I don’t think life in a pit has really been the best conditions, still beats death though right?” 

I was going to say something sarcastic or witty back but it wasn’t worth the effort. I didn’t want to waste what could be my last words talking to the guy who’d stabbed me in the back. He apologized once more, said goodbye to Sasha and began to replace the wood, dirt and netted vines that had hidden the mouth of the pit. Since I knew what to look for now I bet it had been obvious. 

“I’m really sorry.” Sasha said to me. A second later she had leapt at me, but my reflexes were better than before and I rolled out of the way, the tiny finger bones of a long dead Hunter snapping beneath me. 

The chain Sasha was attached too was long enough so that she could move about the pit without having to worry about running out of length but it didn’t seem long enough that she could climb back out again. I couldn’t be sure, maybe there was a chance the blood stained scrabblings on the wall had been hers. 

When I came up out of my roll I reached for the lantern. I shook the small fire in Sasha’s face hoping it might have dissuaded her but she batted the lantern away. The glass smashed and the flame died on the dirt floor. We were both blind now. 

There wasn’t much maneuvering room. Everywhere I moved there was a wall at my back. Barristan’s emaciated sister clearly had the upper hand. She would leap at me, I would dodge and then she’d circle back to try again. I was running out of breath and I couldn’t stop long enough to think of a way to break the cycle. I just kept dodging, listening and then dodging again. 

I kept this up for fifteen or twenty minutes, I couldn’t tell for certain. There was no light and a clock wouldn’t have been of any use. I had to judge it by my own level of exhaustion. My legs were getting tired. My movements were growing slower. I was pressing myself back into the wall when I felt a sharp pain in my leg. 

Of fucking course, the knives that I’d insisted Barristan let me have were still in my pocket. Rolling to the side to dodge Sasha’s next leap at me I pulled one free of and tossed it towards the place I imagine she had landed. 

I heard a soft thud, the knife must’ve hit the ground uselessly. One down, two to go. 

Sasha leapt at me again and this time rather than dodge I braced myself and her full weight crashed against me. My legs buckled and we fell to the ground rolling onto of the corpses. I tried to keep her a decent distance from me. One of my hands was gripped vicelike at her neck keeping her snapping teeth as far from me as possible. She had my other hand tight by the wrist, and long dirty fingernails dug into the skin sharp and painful. This was the hand holding the second knife. She kept squeezing my hand trying to make me loose the grip I had on the knife. When this didn’t appear to be working she scratched at my eyes with her freehand. I had to jerk my head out of the way. 

She snapped her teeth at me again and missed my ears by mere millimeters. She tried the same technique, but as she leaned forward to scratch my eyes I swept my legs underneath her and kicked upwards. My boots connected with her chest and her grip loosened as the wind was knocked from her. I was able to wrench myself free and stood, wrist bleeding and breath coming out in gasps. I needed to get out of here now. I took a knife in each hand and drove one of them into the wall of the pit hoping to be able to use them like a mountain climber’s pick and escape out the side. 

I’d never done much climbing so it was a poor plan at best and I’d hardly gotten a foot off the floor when Sasha leapt on my back, claws scratching into my coat. She pulled me right off the wall, knives coming free along with the rest of me. 

I was flung backwards and smashed against one of the corpses. 

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” Sasha growled at me. 

I pulled myself to my feet again, seconds before she jumped at me. Nothing I was doing was working. I never should have listened to that bastard Barristan and now I was going to die in this hole never being able to warn anyone about him. Who was going to be next to join the pile of corpses? Templeton, Mouse? He’d go for the weaker ones first, he had made that clear. Instead of dying soft surrounded by his caring brethren maybe Barristan would drag Fla’rue’s body out here and let the violinist be devoured as well. 

The unfairness of it all was infuriating. 

And then I remembered Fwahe and Frigga. All of them leaping from on high to drive their weapons into the brains of their enemies. I got an idea. I dodged as Sasha leapt and then dove one of the knives into the wall, holding onto the handle with one hand. In the other I held the longest of the three knives. 

As I expected she leapt at me again digging her claws into my legs and scrabbling upwards. When she got to my waist I tried the only thing I could think to do. I slammed the knife into her head and let go of the knife in the wall. We both fell, my entire bodyweight collapsing on top of her frail frame. The impact knocking the breath clean out of me. 

I had used my body like a hammer and it had driven the proverbial nail right where I wanted it. Barristan’s borrowed blade had driven itself handle deep in his sister’s skull. I knew that I should be thorough and make sure that Sasha was dead. With vampires and other undead creatures I’d heard about in stories or legends you had to cut off the head to ensure those slain weren’t coming back to life. I got back the knife that had missed its mark and pulled the other out of Sasha’s skull so that I had all three again. I chose the longest and looked down at the girl who had just tried to kill and eat me. I steeled my nerves and placed the knife against her neck, but I couldn’t bring myself to make a cut. 

I knew that if any of the other Hunters had been here they would have had no problem with this. Even Mouse would have sliced the head off of something if Anwen or Frigga asked him too, but they weren’t me. 

I would be overjoyed to be just about anyone except myself right now, because being stuck in a pit full of corpses isn’t a particularly great place to be. When you factor in the snake people and me not knowing my way around these woods worth a shit, things went from bad day to complete train wreck. 

I sat on the ground in the pit as far from the bodies as possible and tried to come up with some kind of a plan. I spent a good while debating if it might be safer to just stay in the pit until morning and then try to find my way out. Beasts might not bother to come looking for me around here. 

On the other hand there was a lot of blood in a small space, both mine and Sasha’s and these things could probably smell it. I tried to stop up most of my wounds by tearing off pieces of my shirt and wrapping them around my wrists and some of the scratches down my legs. My coat had taken most of the damage and was torn pretty bad but the damage to my back, shoulders and waist had been minimal thanks to its protection. I wasn’t a medic by any stretch of the imagination so the crude bandages wouldn’t hold for long. 

I decided that leaving the pit was my best move. If I were able to take off Sasha’s head I could try and use the chain as a rope and see how far up that would get me, but it was clear that wasn’t going to happen. Holding the third knife between my teeth like a pirate I tried to use the other two to climb out the sides, like before. This time I didn’t have a little girl trying to murder me to contend with. Even without Sasha to complicate things I wasn’t able to get very far. My arms would start to shake and then I would feel myself give out. When it got to this point I’d just climb back down, I didn’t want to risk one of the knives getting stuck in the wall, too high up for me to reach it. They were pretty much my only resource. 

Since it didn’t seem like that plan was going to work I tried to search for other resources. In the near complete darkness it was hard to tell what things were, and when I discovered the broken lamplight I ended up with a shard of glass in my finger. That started to bleed and I had to grit my teeth and pull the little devil out with my teeth. I was tearing off another piece of my shirt when the solution came to me. 

I felt like a total psychopath as I began to rip all the clothing off of the dead bodies surrounding me. I left Sasha in her dress, taking the clothes off your own murdered victim, especially if that victim was a young girl in a white dress, well it just felt too much like something a rapist would do. When Barristan returned he’d know I killed his sister but I didn’t need him starting other rumors about me. 

A lot of the clothing I found was pretty weak and weathered. I tore everything into strips, as long as possible. I sacrificed my own shirt, coat tails and my pants below the knees. It’d be colder without them but I could button my coat and pull up my socks. So long as I escaped this pit it didn’t really matter too much. 

Once the rope had been created I carefully ran my hands over the broken lamp. I tried to remove all of the broken glass, and got poked a few more times in the process, but I soon had just the empty metal frame. I took out the candle and put it in my pocket, then slammed my boot into the metal until it snapped and broke in two. I used the top part. It had the loop for one to carry the lantern by and four metal pieces extending downwards from it to form the frames of the glass windows. I bent the ends of these metal frameworks slightly inward. I tied the braided clothes through the loop and hoped my makeshift grappling hook would be strong enough to get me to the top of the pit. 

I had to break a hole through all of Barristan’s cover on the top of the pit so that the grappling hook could find purchase somewhere instead of just hitting the top and coming back down at my face. I used one of the dead person’s shoes and threw them at the opening until it burst, showering me in wooden planks, dirt, and assorted vegetation. I gave my grappling hook a good toss and it reached the opening and went over the side of the pit. The rope was long enough to get out. 

I gave the grappling hook a test tug and the rope snaked back towards me. It hadn’t caught on anything so I had to reel it in and try again. Eight times I repeated the process before I felt the hook catch on something. 

I braced my legs on the wall and got my hands positioned on the rope. Slowly, inch by inch I fought my way up the packed dirt. 

When I reached the top I rolled away from the pit’s entrance and lay there in the middle of the villages’ dirt road panting. I gulped in air, and felt my chest swell and shallow out with each breath. I was covered in a mixture of sweat, dirt and blood. Disgusting, but alive. 

After the euphoria of escape, and the momentary release of relaxation, I collected myself and headed out of the village. As far as I was concerned the whole place was poisoned and I would happily become one of the legion of snake people before I went back there ever again. 

As I navigated the forest I tried to avoid every tree so that an unexpected ball of snakes wouldn’t be the thing to finish me off. After all I’d been through, it felt like that would be the dumbest way I could possibly die. Avoiding trees was virtually impossible in a forest this dense so I tried to keep clear of their trunks and pick out pathways with only smaller weaker trees, not capable of supporting anything with real weight too it. 

I must’ve been wandering through the darkness for several hours before spotting any sign that I was headed towards help. There was some kind of towering wooden fort, or treehouse structure in the distance and I thought that maybe there’d be a garrison of woodland hunters stationed there. It was a slim chance, I knew that but it was a risk I was going to have to take. On the way just to spotting it I’d had to fend off another snake head, and I’d only managed to win the battle by pushing him off a cliff. It wasn’t that high so he probably hadn’t died from it and was still somewhere in the distant shadows behind me creeping along ever closer and waiting for the right moment to strike. 

It did turn out to be some kind of giant tree fort, and when I reached it I nearly cried. 

There was another person, bent over the bloody bodies of a few other people. 

“Thank god.” I panted, when I saw him. Then added a more appropriate “Hello.” 

The stranger wiped his mouth with his sleeve and then turned to look at me. “ ‘Ello.” 

“Vilebloods?” I asked him indicating the dead bodies. 

“Yeah you could say theys is.” He replied with a smile, “Or rather you could say theys isn’t.” 

We made an almost identical pair. The stranger was covered in blood and his clothing was a mess of tattered rags just like mine. He had large white cloth bandages covering the side of his head, his hands and some of his nose. We’d both been out slaying, although he’d managed to kill three Vilebloods and I’d only done away with one. I felt relieved and safe to be in a capable Hunter’s company once again. 

The stranger invited me to follow him. We climbed a ladder onto the thatched roof of his fort and sat there, leaning our backs against the wooden walls as the night wore on. The stranger gave me some dried meat and I gnawed on it gratefully. 

“You don’t ‘appen to know a any safe places do ya?” He asked me after we’d sat there a short while. 

I nodded my head and swallowed the piece of meat in my mouth before speaking again, “That’s where I’m trying to get back to, but I got lost.” 

The Stranger laughed and nodded his head, “Can see that, mate. I can see that. Wheres ya tryin’ to go back to?” 

“Yharnam.” I said glad that I could remember the name of my new home. 

“I’d ‘eard that all a Yharnam was overrun.” He commented. 

“Well it’s not beast-free.” I admitted. 

He nodded his understanding then raised an eyebrow at me curiously. The bandage wrapped around his head raised with it in a way that bordered on comical. “Whas a hunter from Yharnam doin’ all the way out ‘ere?” 

“That.” I began, “Is a very long story.” 

The stranger waved his hand around in a circle, bidding me carry on. I shook my head. I wasn’t even remotely ready to process what had just happened. 

“’Nother time then yeah?” He asked me. 

“Sure.” I replied, “But for now, do you know the way out of these woods? Can you help me get back home?” 

“Yessir I know ‘ow to get ya home. Tell you what though s’a long ways and I don’t much fancy goin’ there and back all in one night. It kinda upsets me stomach walking so far does. I’ll get you ‘ome but then you’ve got to let me stay the night n’ give me somethin’ to eat in the mornin’.” 

It was the simplest bargain I’d ever struck. I was sure Frigga wouldn’t mind. We had guests all the time and once I explained that he’d helped me out of the woods he’d be all but made a guest of honor come breakfast time. Thinking of breakfast I longed for hot coffee and wake up calls from Mouse. 

Sitting there with another human, one who didn’t want to kill me returned a sense of safety. I felt the tension and fear fade away a little bit and took a few satisfying deep breaths. 

“Let’s get going, s’a long ways.” He said, ruining the momentary serenity. 

I didn’t want to move. I was so comfortable sitting on the straw roof, it felt safe being off the ground. All the same my strength had returned as much as it was going to for the night and if I stopped and waited any longer I might never make it out of the woods. 

The stranger led me down the ladder we’d come up and started back towards the woods. We spent a good deal of time navigating back the way I had come. 

I wasn’t at all surprised to discover I’d been going in the complete opposite direction of Yharnam. We stuck to the shadows. He moved like a hare darting from place to place and then pausing to look about himself. I was nervous at first, glancing up into the branches of every tree with apprehension. 

I got out of this practice in time; the stranger never chose a tree with snakes in it. He was much more skilled at this then Barristan. I suppose that living in the woods you’d have to develop these kind of senses. He never paused or stopped to explain things to me, in fact the only time he really let up was if one of his bandages started to slip and he needed to readjust its position. 

The giant headstones started to appear again. I smiled, finally something was familiar. I was about to confirm with him that we were on the right track when he held a finger to his lips. The path he was taking me on led along the edge of a steep hill. There was one of the giant gravestones at the top of the hill. The stranger wasn’t pointing towards it though, he was pointing down below at the bottom of the hill. 

Nestled in-between a clump of trees was the most enormous snake I’d ever seen. Its body was as thick around as some of the massive tree trunks. Its head was about the same size as the church bell where communion was held, its eyes were as big as dinner plates. 

“Best not to let that one spot us eh?” The stranger advised. 

I nodded and we continued creeping along the hilltop. When we passed the giant gravestones I looked down and saw that we still had a journey ahead of us. I figured we must’ve been either in the witching hour or just past it. 

Snake balls were roaming the ground, each of the different bodies knotted together trying to pull free in a different direction. After a time, two or three of them would all try to go the same way and be able to pull the remainders a few inches in one direction. If one of their many heads spotted us I figured they’d agree on their direction pretty quickly. 

“Gotta be quick.” He said to me before we headed down the hill. 

I had no idea how he kept up his energy but he bounded from gravestone to gravestone like it was nothing. I was always playing catch up, lungs burning and legs aching. My falling behind caused a few of the snake balls to lunge at me, but I’d dodge or stab at them and it’d be enough to get away. I lost one of my precious knives, embedded solidly in the head of one of the snakes. I wanted it back but not badly enough that I was going to go through a round of snake tug-of-war for it. 

When the brick pathways began to show up, I all but dropped to the ground and kissed them. And when lo and behold the actual stone streets of Yharnam appeared, I did drop to my knees. Waves of relief ran over me, I was never going back into those woods. They were dead to me. 

The stranger laughed at my relived reaction, but let me have my moment. He shared some water from his canteen and I gulped down the refreshing liquid greedily. I led us through Yharnam, going back over the rooftops like Barristan had. I didn’t want to take my chances with Greatwolves. He kept up with me just fine, following my lead and dodging the crows. 

From our rooftop vantage point we could see that dawn was on the horizon. I could also see the façade of the library and having home as my last landmark I breathed a sigh of relief. As we drew closer to home I found that I kept looking over my shoulder to check for Barristan. Sometimes I would swear he was behind me, holding the point of one of his silver knives to my neck. I’d whirl around but not see anything and I had to play it off like I was being cautious. 

We reached the building next to the library. 

“Well this is it.” I said pointing to our hideout. 

“It’s nice.” The stranger said, “But do ya think ya could take me inside I ain’t feelin’ so great.” 

I looked back at him in alarm. He had been pushing so hard I didn’t stop and consider the possibility that maybe he was going a bit too quickly for his own good. He’d mentioned his stomach troubles before and I hadn’t been any help, probably causing all sorts of anxiety-related flare-ups. 

“Yeah of course.” I replied. I didn’t want to end up back in Barristan’s bedroom so after traversing our way across the rooftop, and we’d come through the broken window I started to head towards the elevator shaft. I knew it was also on the third floor since Rook had used it for supplies scouting earlier. 

“I’ll just stay up ‘ere if thas alright with ya.” The Stranger panted. 

I hadn’t noticed his exhaustion before and guilt came over me. I didn’t want him to have worn himself to the bone on my account. It really showed what kind of a guy he was, I guess there were hunters with honor out there in the end. People were much better than Barristan. 

I tried to concisely explain why staying too near to Barristan was a bad idea, but the Stranger shuffled between some bookshelves and piles of unused book ends. You wouldn’t be able to spot him if you didn’t know where to look. He blended right in with the shadows. 

We bade each other goodnight. 

I headed down the elevator shaft and crept to the edge of the second floor railing. My eyes had grown used to the dim moonlight and blackness out in the forest, they’d adjusted to the point where I could make things out with an element of clarity. I checked to see who was on guard and cursed every god I knew of that someone had chosen Barristan. Of course it was Barristan. 

I was in no condition to confront him and though I wanted to explain things to Frigga as soon as possible I was afraid that Barristan would hear me knocking on her door or calling her name. I was afraid he’d hear if I tried speaking to anyone so I just slunk back to my little room. 

My axe was right where I had left it. I grabbed it and shrunk it down to its shortened form. Climbing into my hammock and clutching the handle of my axe tight the way a scared child clutches their teddy bear, I lay staring into the darkness. It didn’t take long for sleep to take its hold. I was still a mess with dirt, blood, both mine and others and sticky with sweat as I slumbered in my hammock. 

I woke up to the sound of our dining room table snapping in half. 

I jolted out of bed, nearly skinning my arm with the blade of my axe. I rushed out the door to see a giant beast crackling with electricity barreling around our kitchen. It was like a piece of bolt paper had come to life. His red eyes glowed with smoke the same way my enemy in South End Cathedral’s had. 

The beast let out a bellowing roar. More doors flung open and we spilled out of our study rooms armed to the teeth. I was rushing down the stairs next to Templeton. When she first saw me she gasped like I had been a ghost. 

“Sterling how are you-“ 

“No time!” I shouted as we all flooded to the first floor. 

The Altered Boys had been on him before any of us. The positioned themselves on the tops of the bookshelves and dived at him with their spears. The giant beast seemed unaffected. 

Templeton fired some shots from her pistol at the huge thing. It held up it’s great paw to stop them and they bounced off its calloused paw pad harmlessly. The few that had embedded themselves in it’s fur didn’t seem to be making any difference. 

“Is it Sterling?” Cato asked. “Did the bastard turn?” 

“I’m right fucking here!” I growled at him. 

“But Barristan said you-“ Imogen began 

“Barristan fucking lied!” I shouted. 

If they were going to question me further they didn’t have time. The Beast grabbed one half of the dining room table and hurled it in our direction. Hunters, both in armor and in pajamas dived out of the way. 

“Took me forever to organize those.” I heard Templeton sigh as she dusted herself off firing a few more useless rounds into the beast. 

Cato, unable to move very fast had gotten knocked over by one of the table legs. His chair lay on its side, wheels spinning but not going anywhere. Cato was trying to army crawl away from the wreckage, using his arms and shoulders to pull himself across the ground. The teeth on his clothing clicked across the floor and ever few feet he’d throw a book or a fallen cup at the hulking creature. 

He didn’t need to attract it; this thing seemed all about going after the easy prey. It was about to dive, throwing its great strength towards Cato when it was jerked to a halt. The chain of Frigga’s threaded cane had wrapped around the upper left arm of the creature. Frigga, Anwen and the twins all pulled at the chain, holding the creature back from Cato. Templeton and I grabbed Cato under the arms and hauled him out of the way. 

The beast planted its other arm and paw down on the ground and wrenched itself free of the chain. Anwen, Frigga and the twins went flying across the other side of the room. The beast bounded towards them. 

“Hey over here!” Larkspur shouted. He threw his spear as hard as he could and this one hit the rampaging creature right in its jaw. It didn’t appear to have done any real damage but it sure as hell attracted attention. Rather than barreling towards the hunters it had just knocked unconscious the creature went charging for the Altered boy’s area. 

Cypress, Beetle, Sovite and a few others drove their spears into it from the sides as it went roaring past. They were pushing them in as deep as they would go but it charged farther forward all the same. Larkspur dove under it attempting to drive his spear into the underbelly of the creature, perhaps figuring it was like a cleric beast and that it had a weak spot there. 

If it did have a weakness there, one spear wasn’t enough to dissuade it. The creature brought both of its paws together trying to smash Larkspur in-between. 

“Larkspur l-l-look out!” The coughing raspy voice of Fla’rue warned. 

He dove to the side just a second before the impact came. The monster lost interest in Larkspur in favor of easier prey. 

Still sitting up in his bed the tiny Fla’rue gripped his spear tightly as the great creature charged at him. 

“RUE!” Cypress shouted and sprinted towards his companion. 

Fla’rue swiped at the beast with his weapon weakly. He was coughing pitifully, shouting a warning had taken all his strength. 

The creature planted it’s two front feet in front of the tiny hunter. The beast towered over him, if Fla’rue was the ship then it was the sea. It was an unforgiving storm. 

The beat roared and scooped the tiny hunter up in its jaws. We heard bones snap as it brought its powerful teeth together. Blood sprayed from Fla’rue’s broken body. A crunch echoed through the library as his spine snapped. The creature devoured him in a few quick bites leaving behind nothing but bloodstains. 

I thought that the whole world was supposed to freeze when things like this happened. It didn’t, things still came at us full force and the beast was back on the attack after crunching down the rest of Fla’rue’s lifeless body. He barreled past the line of Altered Boys smashing bookshelves after he came. Fla’rue’s blood was dripping from his chin and mingling with his fur. 

Cypress, enraged charged at the beast, using his pole to vault onto its back. He landed on its back and began to climb towards its head. The creature gave a yowl and rose up on its hind legs. It slammed its back into the library wall knocking Cypress off. Using chain looted from the armor supply another group of Boys, led by Thistle charged in trying to tangle up and the beast’s feet. 

I swear the thing laughed and then slammed its fist down onto the metal chains. A gust of wind blew out from the impact and the metal crackled with electricity scorching the hands of each and every boy in Thistle’s squad. 

“Tiny hunters.” It scoffed. “S’a little pathetic ‘ow you keep at it.” 

Shit. The thing spoke with the same accent that the stranger who’d helped me get home had. I put two and two together and realized this whole nightmare was my fault. The bandages must have been covering the early stages of the transformation. This time I said it out loud, “Shit.” 

Cato had scrabbled over to his fallen chair and was trying to pry open a pouch on the back. He fumbled with the clasp a few times before getting it open. He rooted around and pulled out a glass bottle with an orangey red liquid inside. He also removed a matchbox. 

“No Cato you can’t!” Templeton shouted. 

He ignored her and struck the match. He lit a wick coming out the neck of the bottle and tossed it overhand. The glass smashed against the side of the creature. A second later fire broke out where the liquid contents of the Molotov cocktail had splashed on the beast. It yowled and spun around. Cato tossed another catching it directly in the face. 

Some of the flammable liquid was making puddles on the ground. Templeton was pleading for Cato to stop but he had already lit the wick on his third and final bottle. He hurled it as the creature stood up on its hind legs. The bottle bounced off the monsters’ chest and smashed against the floor. Flames flared up at the beast’s feet spreading from puddle to puddle and then catching the books and wooden shelves. The beast was blinded by the fire on its face and whirled around blindly trying to make sense of things. 

“No no no no.” Templeton muttered. Her eyes were wide with horror as all of her research; all of her work was consumed. 

“We’ve got to get out of here.” I said. 

“Not before I’ve killed that bastard!” Cato snarled. 

By this time Frigga’s group had regained their senses and were rushing over to join us, taking advantage of the distracted enemy. 

“We need to leave.” Anwen said calmly. 

Frigga was looking over her shoulder, eyes wide as the fire continued to spread. The flames danced in her eyes as she stared trance-like into the destruction. 

“Frigga!” Anwen shouted. 

Frigga’s head whirled around and she gave a curt nod to no one in particular. It must’ve helped her regain her senses because next she was shouting evacuation orders. Cato was still hell bent on throwing whatever was at hand towards the monster. He had to be scooped up and flung over Anwen’s broad shoulders and carried outside like a sack of potatoes. 

Templeton too was having trouble leaving. She was rushing about like a chicken with her head cut off gathering armloads of books and then dumping them on the floor and looking over their covers in an attempt to select the best for saving. The twins were acting as effective distractions; each had a flaming bit of wood that they would wave in the monster’s face. Since the enormous thing was already half blinded it seemed, to him like he ran into a flaming dead end everywhere he went and he kept turning about in circles trying to get free of the imaginary prison. Imogen was herding Mouse outside, he was terrified but he tried not to show it. 

“Where’s Barristan?” Frigga asked me. “Dead with any luck.” I muttered. 

Frigga raised an eyebrow at me, but there wasn’t time to explain things. “Help Templeton and get out.” She barked at me then dove forward to assist the twins. 

Templeton had disappeared into the burning stacks and I went charging after her calling her name. She never replied but I was able to track her down by the sounds of her coughing. When I found her she was surrounded by a sea of books, far too many to be carried out. 

“Come on Templeton we’ve gotta go!” I pleaded to her. 

“But I’ve worked so hard.” She pleaded. 

I stooped and gathered an armload of books myself, whatever was closest. “Just take what you can and run!” I barked at her, “NOW!” 

She flinched when I yelled at her and filled her arms with heavy tomes. Arms full, unable to defend ourselves should attack come we hurried for the barricades. We were just at the exit that Anwen had kicked in for us when Templeton stopped. 

“I forgot one!” she shouted dumping her pile at the door and turning back into the blaze. 

“Templeton no!” I shouted after her, but it was too late and she vanished into the church. 

The Valkyries who had been told to leave and a few of the Altered Boys were outside and stared at me curiously as I exited the blaze with an armload of books. I dumped them on the stairs outside and turned to the onlookers. 

“Get these books, there’s a pile just inside I’m going back for Temple!” I shouted towards them. 

I would just have to hope they listened to me. Jumping over the pile of books that Templeton had dropped I was hit by the heat of the room. Everything sizzled, crackled or smoked. The cloud of smoke was thick and oppressive. I couldn’t tell where the monster or anyone else was. 

“Templeton!” I shouted. With every cry more smoke flooded down my lungs. It felt like someone had forced an ember down my throat and was trying to cook me from the inside out. 

Frigga materialized by my side from out of the smoke. “I told you to get her out of here!” 

“I tried!” I shot back. 

Frigga shoved her full weight into my shoulder and we fell backwards into a desk. The corner of it jabbed into my side painfully. “The fuck wa-“I began to say. I shut up when seconds late the beasts’ fist pounded the ground I’d just been standing on. She’d saved my life and I was about to have cussed her out for it. 

“I know you’re in ‘ere ‘iding. Ya can’t ‘ide forever.” The beast taunted us. 

“Get Templeton. Get Out.” Frigga snarled at me. She shoved me towards a myriad of flaming bookshelves. 

I bumped into an Altered Boy, one I’d seen before but didn’t know the name of. He had a rather unique skin condition that gave him patches of brown skin on the customary Altered Boy pale. Or maybe it was pale on brown, now wasn’t the time. 

His eyes were wide with terror. I grabbed him by the shoulders and made eye contact. He had hazel eyes. 

“I need you to help me find Templeton ok? Templeton the one with the books and the glasses. She won’t leave and we’ve got to get her out ok?” 

He nodded shakily back at me. 

“Ok. Come on let’s go.” 

Having a mission seemed to help the Altered Boy. He was scared but it didn’t paralyze him too bad once he got moving. He had a knack for knowing when something was about to collapse and pulled me out of the way of a few burning bookshelves. We swept the room as best we could but there was still no sign of her. 

“Shit.” I said realizing our mistake. “She must’ve gone upstairs.” 

“She’ll never make it out of that.” He said to me, “The entire staircase is all in flames.” 

“We’ve got to try? Can you try?” 

He nodded again and we charged for the stairs without a moment’s hesitation. The Altered Boy whipped off his vest and tried to beat back the flames and clear a path up the stairs. I unbuttoned my coat and did the same, uncharacteristically bare-chested in the middle of an inferno. 

“There’s…nothing we can do.” He rasped. Both are lungs were clogged with smoke. 

“I…can’t give up.” I told him, “Go…go on thanks…it’s ok.” 

He shook his head and stuck by my side. There wasn’t any time to think up a clever solution, no grappling hooks that could be fashioned or ladders conceived. I racked my brain trying to think of some other way to get upstairs and remembered the elevator shaft. 

I took the boy by the wrist and we darted back through the crumbling library until we came to the elevator. We both had to use a considerable amount of our dwindling strength to climb our way up the shaft. I concluded that the Stranger must’ve come down it after he’d transformed because it was fairly smashed up. 

The fire hadn’t had a good chance to spread to it yet and we navigated the splintered boards and old elevator cables until we got on solid ground. Templeton’s room was thankfully nearby but the fire was coming ever closer, spreading from the staircase and eating up everything that stood in its way. 

“Where?” the Altered Boy panted. 

I pointed towards Templeton’s room and we darted off. 

Below us we heard the crashing and smashing of the crazed beast. I didn’t look down; I didn’t want to see anything like what had happened to Fla’rue ever again. 

Sure enough Templeton was in her room filling her arms with nearly every book on her shelves. I didn’t even bother communicating the urgency of the situation, me and my new companion just stooped to help her pick up the books. Her clothes had been scorched in numerous places and she was coughing an unseemly amount. 

When we finally began to exit the Altered Boy took the lead, Templeton in-between and myself at the rear. There was no way she was going to scramble back into the church for more books this time. I wanted to yell at her for being so selfish and stupid and putting my life in danger yet again but I didn’t. There’d be time for that kind of thing if we made it out alive. 

Getting back down the elevator shaft wasn’t going to happen. We had to go up. Flames covered the whole ground floor now. I scrambled up to the third floor first and then all the books had to be passed up to me. Once we all arrived on the third floor we had to stop and waste precious minutes as Templeton checked and then re-checked to make sure we hadn’t let anything slip by us. 

Once everything was present and accounted for we navigated the smoke-filled attic and I took the lead. I took us over to the broken window and we scrambled out of Barristan’s secret escape hatch. 

When we got out onto the rooftop I looked down below us. There I could see some of our hunters and a white patch of Altered Boys. 

“How are we going to get these down?” Templeton asked. 

I took us to the ledge and we hopped across to the other building. All of us nearly careened down to our deaths, the armloads of books making it hard to balance. When we were all safely over to the roof of the other building I fell back on the slanted roof and gulped in the air, filling my lungs with it. It was exceptionally refreshing. 

I was jolted back to reality seconds later as the enormous beast burst through one of the library barricades and we watched it go tearing down the street. This was all happening in broad daylight; numerous denizens were crushed beneath its paws as it fled towards the forest. A few were scooped up in its massive maw and devoured. 

The library seemed to shake before collapsing inward. The home of the Valkyries burnt and blackened smoldered down to its stone foundations. A crowd gathered around and firemen appeared, they were too late. No one had been able to run a warning to them before things got out of control. 

I was struck with the sudden realization that Frigga assumed we had all been consumed in the blaze. There was a good chance no one had seen us escape from the roof if they’d all been watching the barricade. 

Templeton spotted a fire escape and we clambered down it and joined our friends. Their eyes, brimming with tears with the knowledge of our deaths and the destruction of our home suddenly lit up again. The Altered Boy was all but pounded to death by his brothers. The twins, Mouse and Imogen all squeezed me until I thought I might burst. Templeton was bear-hugged by Anwen and punched in the shoulder by Cato for “making him worry”. 

Frigga pulled Templeton close and kissed her on the forehead. She whispered something in her ear and then backhanded her across the face “Don’t you ever make me worry about you like that again!” 

Templeton, shell shocked just nodded. Her cough still hadn’t let up. 

Frigga came over to me. “Thank you for getting her out of there.” She said to me. 

“It was more of a team effort.” I said, “You ought to be thanking that Boy.” 

I pointed him out to her. 

“I will.” She assured me, “But you went back into the fire all the same and that’s the kind of thing good hunters do.” 

I didn’t really know what to say because I was certain that good hunters weren’t the kind that brought destruction into their homes. Nobody knew it had been me though, at least as far as I could tell so I nodded and didn’t say anything. 

Frigga gave me a quick hug before turning to go find the boy who’d helped me. His name turned out to be Piebald, given to him after his distinctive coloration. Larkspur had likened him to a piebald horse or deer back when they were just church boys. Some of the more dedicated converts who saw themselves as superior to the adopted orphans had used this remark as the basis for an insulting nickname but it never bothered the boy and it was quickly adopted as his name altogether. 

Barristan was nowhere to be found. A brief search was conducted but no one was able to uncover anything about his whereabouts. This didn’t surprise me and I summarized my story about Barristan, leaving out the part where I let a Stranger follow me back into the library. The beginning of my story was met with a good deal of suspicion, but once I mentioned Barristan’s sister and called her by name they knew I was speaking the truth. I don’t think any of them wanted to believe it, or maybe even if they fully did. The search was called off all the same and no one went looking for the missing Valkyrie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!


	12. Chapter the Twelfth: In Which the Aftermath Sets In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The library is burning, there is a beast on the loose, someone's going to have to answer for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always please let me know what you think!

The momentary celebration of our survival was quickly eclipsed by the oppressive sinking feeling of eviction. Our home was gone and most likely whatever shambles of a reputation Frigga had managed to hold together. There was no way to keep a thing like this from Abbot Minimus; if Veera had still been around she would’ve been all but giggling in the misfortune a blunder like this would cause us. Hundreds of denizens were rushing to their complaints bureau to pass along words of our incompetence. 

“We needed to go to the Clinic soon anyways.” Larkspur said once we’d verified that all had made it out ok. “You’re more than welcome to come with us.” 

A lot of the Altered Boys had burns or were coughing pretty bad but they had all been close to exits and when they saw us leaving they did as well. Rook was in their midst shaking but talking softly to Beetle who had helped him navigate the blaze and get himself to safety. 

Dragging whatever we had salvaged along behind us we headed down the streets exhausted. Denizens pointed and stared but never got close enough to ask us any questions. It seemed like a longer trek then it was and arriving at the Clinic offered no immediate comfort. 

Veera had left the mad hunter’s dead body where she’d killed it and the stench of death and decay permeated the room and made us all sick to our stomachs. There were no signs of life in the whole place, not like the library. The clinic was still very much as a clinic with no dining areas or bedrooms just lots and lots of clutter. Piebald and Sovite volunteered to get rid of the body. They wrapped scraps of cloth around their mouths and pulled on some surgeon gloves they’d located. Thistle went behind them mopping up whatever bits and pieces were left behind. 

No one had the energy to grave dig, and no one wanted to make an effort. It was decided that the body was just going to be dumped in the sewers and would be no different than the myriad of other bodies left there to rot. It wasn’t a particularly popular call, but it was made by Larkspur who was arguably now the one in charge and no one felt like voicing any complaints. 

Those of us with the energy looted the place for medical supplies and tried to patch up everyone else. Frigga had assigned Mouse the duty of keeping Templeton awake. She was shaking all over and coughing. The walk to the clinic had been really difficult for her and Frigga was worried that if she fell asleep she might not wake up. Being that Templeton was the one with the most medical knowledge and the one we would’ve turned to for verification of this made the solution all the more desperate. Mouse sat next to her and told her stories as loud as he could, poking or shaking her if she started to nod off. We all encouraged him to keep it up whenever we had the breath to spare. Templeton’s coughing and shaking reminded me of Fla’rue the night he had been all but freezing to death and I tried to stay as far away from her as possible. 

Under Larkspur’s direction we cleared out the main reception room and one of the multitudes of sick bays. We shoved as many beds and wheeled gurneys as we could find into that same sick bay as he intended for it to be the Altered Boy’s bedroom and they all preferred to sleep in close proximity. Any bloodied sheets or mattresses were replaced with clean ones, there was plenty to pick from and the dirty ones were burnt lest they fester into something more repulsive then they already were. The fire was started out back and a good deal away from the Clinic. No chance of it catching. 

Cato didn’t apologize for setting the library on fire. He’d probably saved more of us by doing that then if we’d continued to fight the beast. The truth wasn’t a popular opinion today, so Cato gave Templeton a wide berth and avoided confrontation. 

Larkspur gave us the main reception area to use, apologizing for the lack of available space. It didn’t matter to most of us. Anwen collapsed on one of the benches in the room, still in full plate armor. Our weapons had all been saved for the most part, mine included. I strapped it to my back while we struggled with the books and the strap had held. We couldn’t say the same for the Altered Boy’s weapons. The creature had snapped most of their spears and numerous others had been burnt to ash. 

Cypress was bitter about everything. He cursed the beast, and the fire and their new home. Most of them were upset that Fla’rue couldn’t be buried. His violin had gone up in the fire, Cypress has wanted to save it but it would’ve just gotten buried in his place and wasn’t worth the risk. He had nothing to grieve over, so he locked himself in one of the cluttered rooms. We could hear him sobbing from the other side of the door and each separate sound was like a knife blade through the heart. His grieving was my fault. 

There wasn’t much in the way of food or kitchen area. Piebald after successfully making the trek to the sewer had admitted that whilst he, Sovite and Thistle had been washing their hands off in one of the fountains on the way back had noticed a few market carts that weren’t being watched as close as they should have been. The boys managed to snatch a few carrots, a single potato and three sausages. 

Thistle chopped everything up into the tiniest pieces he could and boiled it into a thin soup. I’d had worse meals myself, but this just seemed to leave you hungrier then you’d been before you ate it. I

mogen and Cato sat up for first watch and I joined them. I could’ve taken all the watches that night; there was no chance of getting to sleep. 

The thick cobblestone walls of the library were no more. Cold wind leaked in through the windows, cracks in the wood paneling and anywhere else it could manage. We all missed the warm heath of the library, but none of us wanted to light a fire. Most of those sleeping huddled together trying to keep warm. Imogen, Cato and I all sat back to back watching in three different directions and keeping ourselves tucked close together to conserve heat. The Altered Boys had offered to stand watch for us but they’d done enough already and we felt indebted to them. 

Come nightfall, which for us was essential daybreak I was no less tired then I had been before. Cato, Imogen and I had sat through all three of the watches that we were supposed to cede to the others. I was tired of course, but in the numb way where there was no chance of me getting any actual sleep. It was partially this exhaustion which caused us all to jump when there was a knock on the Clinic’s closed door. 

Imogen was the one who went to open it. She looked through the peephole and then instantly flung the door wide open. The imposing frame of Abbot Minimus stood outside. 

“Good evening.” He said looking over us critically, but bowing all the same. 

I still hadn’t had a chance to clean up from the night before, nor change into clothing that wasn’t torn to shreds. I stood out next to his immaculate robes in stark contrast. Imogen and I bowed back and Cato dipped his head, the best he could. 

Once the formalities were out of the way the Abbot continued, “I need to speak with your Lady Frigga.” He informed, “It is a matter of some urgency.” 

“She’s asleep right now, Sir.” Cato replied. “You’ll just have to wait for her to wake up.” 

The Abbot shook his head, “I’m afraid this cannot wait.” 

He removed a bell from his sleeve and jangled it. The bell’s resonance woke everyone in the room and the Altered Boys peeked their heads out of their bedroom to see what was going on. The Abbot largely ignored them. 

“Lady Frigga Hemlock of Yharnam?” He asked. 

She stood, dusting herself off, hair in its single silver braid. Once she saw who addressed her she dropped into a curtsey and then greeted him, “Abbot Minimus.” 

“We have much to discuss.” He said, “It has come to my attention from numerous sources, that you’re safe house was compromised. Another hunter placed under your care has died and I am afraid many of us feel that this is one strike too many. Under normal circumstances I would of course allow you to defend yourself in a Hunter’s court and we would conduct a proper trial to investigate the matter of your capabilities as a leader. We have been through this process once before, another incident involving a fire if I recall correctly.” 

“You do, Sir.” Frigga said. Her shoulders straightened and she lifted her chin, brimming with a spiteful false confidence. 

“In addition to this previous case and this recent event being an all but repeat offense we had thought a Hunter’s Trial a bit superfluous. Of course we were willing to hold it nonetheless but then we received the testimony of one of your Hunters, and well the evidence just became too much for us to ignore.” 

“Former Hunters?” Frigga asked. 

Minimus waved his hand dismissively, “It’s not a priority right now. What is however, is your arrest.” 

Faster than I thought possible Minimus was behind Frigga, taking both of her hands behind her back and placing them in a set of silver handcuffs. Cato unleashed every curse word in his vocabulary but Frigga put up no signs of a struggle. 

“I hereby strip you of your title Frigga Hemlock; I disband your clan of hunters and revoke your rights to intercede on their behalf. Like all disgraced clans their members will have to rely on the wealth and benevolence of other clans if they wish to continue to participate in the hunt. If their lives are not bought and bargained for by other clans they will be exiled to the Forbidden Woods.” 

“I demand a trial by combat.” Frigga said, her voice overflowing with malice. “Let me fight whatever witness you have and we shall see who is right and who is dead!” 

Having all been awoken we jumped to our feet, weapons at the ready willing to fight the Abbot himself if we had too. Hunters dressed in similar robes flooded through the door and swarmed the room. They cuffed Cato and shoved a rag into his mouth when he wouldn’t stop trying to fight them but the rest of us stood in sedate aggravation watching, unable to intervene. 

“Miss Hemlock, please.” Minimus continued, “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. The one who brought these allegations to us was your very own Barristan Giller. He has hunted with your squadron longer than any, and he said you told him to take your newblood into the woods and kill him, feed him to some sort of ghastly Vileblood creature you’d made him chain in a pit. He says that’s where all the others who died at your hands ended up.” 

“Lies!” I shouted, “Barristan was trying to-“ 

The Minimus loyalist nearest me shut me up with a swift punch to the gut that shut me up, pain pounding through my body. 

“Don’t try to fight them.” Frigga said, “I demand a trial by combat with Barristan Giller. Let me complete against him in the tournament, the old gods and Kos above shall show you what he says is false!” 

“Trials by combat have to be agreed upon by both parties Miss Hemlock.” Minimus replied, “And I’m afraid Barristan has no desire to fight you.” 

“Coward!” Imogen spat. 

“We all demand a trial.” Anwen said, calm and firm. “The council of course is well within its rights to arrest those they deem a danger but they cannot condemn willy nilly. If our La-….if Frigga says she’s innocent then let her prove it.” 

“It’s an awful lot she’s charged with.” Minimus said. 

“Then I’ll win the whole damn tournament.” Frigga said, “Let me compete and I shall prove to you what that coward says is a lie.” 

“I have no desire to become the corrupt monster your clan paints me to be.” Abbot Minimus said, “If that is what you desire then so be it. If you are able to win the day your innocence will be proven and your honor, titles, and clan restored. We shall find a new safe house for you in addition to all of the prize money, blood and assorted other frivolities awarded to the winner. If you do not however, Miss Hemlock, as the rules of combat so clearly state, I am afraid we shall be forced to kill you.” 

Frigga nodded her head in agreement. 

“Very well.” Minimus said, “Until such time as the tournament begins you shall remain in my custody and your hunters will be split up amongst those who wish to pay for their lives. A meeting on the matter is getting underway as we speak and interested parties are eager to begin. I myself hope to acquire your most studious and intrepid little Scholar. She shall be a worthy addition to my collection.” Without another word we were all slapped with silver handcuffs. The Altered Boys charged out of their bedroom, ready for bloodletting but Minimus’ police sprayed a numbing mist in their direction. Their muscles seized up and they all fell to the floor, momentarily paralyzed. 

We were paraded out into the cold and marched along the narrow streets. The police separated us all into different carriages. They separated the twins putting Sage in with Imogen and leaving Salem by her lonesome. Anwen had to be torn apart from the fearful Mouse. I watched from the barred windows of the carriage I’d been shoved in as some of the police spent their rage on Cato. He’d said a variety of things they weren’t too fond of, attacking the mothers, masculinity and ability to perform in bed. He paid for each of those words with a new bruise. They kicked and punched him until they were satisfied, then tossed his battered body in the same carriage as me. 

He was choking on his own blood, the rag in his mouth preventing him from expelling it. I explained this to the guard with us in the carriage but instead of helping he gave Cato another kick in the ribs, spat on him and declared “Good riddance.” 

I was watching Cato die the whole bumpy, uncomfortable carriage ride. I expected we’d be taken to the church where communion was held but when I saw the façade of the building we were stopping at I shivered. 

All of the windows were barred and the sound of laughter coated the air like storm clouds. They’d taken us to a madhouse. The door to our carriage was never opened however; I just got to watch as they made a big show of parading Frigga inside. The guard was watching this as well, cheering and pounding his fist against the side of the carriage. 

I capitalized on his distraction and slipped my foot out of the boot I’d been wearing. I had taken to forsaking socks, none too fond of the way they’d slid on the polished wooden surface of the library. Thankfully I hadn’t put any on today and my toes were free. I stretched my leg as far as it would go, for Cato had been tossed to the floor on the side of the carriage opposite me. Using every ounce of concentration I grabbed a clump of rag between my big toe and its smaller neighbor and tugged. 

The cloth fell out from the small purchase my toes had and I had to repeat this process a few times. I knew that with every failed attempt Cato got closer and closer to death but I tried not to let that get to me. After another attempt I finally tugged it loose and blood gurgled out from between Cato’s lips. He coughed a few times, the guard didn’t notice in the cacophony of cheers, pounding and laughing. He looked up at me and nodded his thanks trying to wipe off the blood on his shirt. He ended up getting scratched by the attached teeth. He was enraged but that was far superior to dead. 

Once the doors to the madhouse had slammed closed behind Frigga the carriages rolled onwards. Our guard, seated opposite me and above Cato would occasionally make some remark about how stupid we were for falling for Frigga’s tricks. He spent awhile talking about how her open encouragement of love between hunters of the same sex or even Kos forbid, in the same clan was part of her downfall. He proceeded to tell Cato all about what he’d do to the half-changed Altered Boy if he ever got his hands on him. Cato was ready to fire back a barrage of far better constructed insults but I nudged him with my boot before he could speak and he seemed to remember his place in the world right now. For once in his life he didn’t try to fight something. 

Our journey stopped at an enormous theater. I’d snuck into a few theaters in my day, especially during winter to keep out of the snow. You could usually hunker down in the back row and watch the action without any fear of being kicked out because the ushers tended to enjoy the play more than their jobs and let urchins like me fall by the wayside. I doubt Minimus had brought us here to watch Dickens’ Christmas Carol. 

All of our carriages went around back to the stage door where the actors came through and we were shuffled into a dressing room. Anwen was sporting a black eye, Sage had a noticeable gash in his head and Mouse was nowhere to be found. Templeton was coughing up a storm and irritating all of the guard in the room. One of them threatened to take her outside and shut her up if she didn’t stop it, like a smoke-educed cough was something she could control. 

Abbot Minimus himself shot them an evil look and told them not to damage the goods. I guess we were all commodities now, least those of us who were decent at anything. Cato looked like someone had sent a stampeded after him. You couldn’t see any of his actual skin tone any more it was all just a collage of hideous bruises. The caked blood around his mouth and nostrils wasn’t helping the look. 

One of the guards came in late carrying Mouse in his arms. 

Minimus rolled his eyes, “Why are you late again Lyle?” 

“Little one said he had to pee.” The burly guard responded. When he spoke it was slow and drawn out like each word was a little bit of a struggle for him. He set Mouse down and the tiny Hunter scuttled over to Anwen sitting at her feet. He looked up at her with tear filled eyes. 

“Wen?” He asked, “What’s gonna happen to us?” 

She shrugged, she honestly did not know. 

Minimus was kind enough to inform us that the last time a clan had been disbanded like this was about ten years ago when they were discovered to have been harboring a Vileblood and brining her the bodies of hunters they’d murdered for her so that she might live. This had been especially scandalous because the group in question had belonged to the church which was against the Vilebloods from the start. This cemented their contempt for the creatures. 

Those hunters who hadn’t been killed during the arrest attempt were split up and put through a reconditioning phase before being taken to their new clansmen. The ones who weren’t claimed by a clan were executed. Any clan was allowed to buy the life of one of the arrested hunters so long as they had one hundred silver coins to spare, or fifty blood vials at their disposal. These were starting bids. If your leader was found guilty you were split up, you went down with the ship. Thus was the way of the Hunter. 

Minimus informed us that anyone who wasn’t claimed by a group would be executed directly following the conclusion of the tournament alongside Frigga. He then exited the room leaving us a mixed bag of emotions. 

Someone equating you to property is never a pleasant experience. It had happened to me a few times before. Most street kids started out in one work house or another where we were all traded around and bargained for by corrupt old men only worried about their bottom line. It was something no one really wanted to talk about, but everyone was sort of dimly aware of. If you were good at your job, all the better because your patron would be loath to lose you. I was never particularly good at any factory job, the worse you were the shittier the places you ended up. I think it was when I found out 

I’d been sold to a meat packing plant for a job described as entrails separator that I had escaped and gotten as far from the work house as possible. 

There wasn’t any place we could run now. None of us was in a condition to fight our way out of the room. Cato hadn’t even had the energy to insult Minimus as he was leaving. Most of the police filed out with him, leaving us with a few guards. This would’ve been a stupid move if we’d been in any condition to fight but every one of us had had their strength sapped. 

“Maybe the Altered Boys will come save us.” Mouse said. 

We smiled at him, more false hope. 

One of the guards quickly smashed it, “Those pale-ass gutter rats haven’t got a penny between the lot of them. They’re not gonna do anything for you, ‘cept maybe sit back watch the show.” 

It was an unfortunate truth. If they’d been blood starved before coming to the library they certainly hadn’t had the resources to pay for extra vials. There was no way they’d be able to rack up enough to get a life back. 

Mouse started to sniffle. 

“You’ll be ok.” Anwen told him, “The nuns took a vow to save all the children they can and that includes you. They won’t let you be killed don’t you worry my Little Mouse.” 

He leaned his head against her armored leg, “Thanks ‘Wen.” 

She had nothing to worry about either. A fighter of her skill size and strength was going to be needed somewhere. I was more worried for myself; I didn’t exactly have a lot of kills under my belt to make my life seem like a worthwhile investment. The wheels in my brain spun out of control as I tried to cook up a plan to swindle my way out of this one. 

I hadn’t had time to come up with anything before the door opened and a guard instructed us all to follow him out onto the stage. One of the bigger policemen grabbed Cato and slung him over his shoulder. The teeth on Cato’s shirt rattled but he didn’t say anything. He, like all of us had been defeated and we followed our captors through the hallways. 

As we walked towards the stage I could feel my muscles tense and my heart pound. I was relying on the mercies of a mess of people I hardly knew. I had put all of my companions’ life in jeopardy because I’d been confused and afraid. My mistake was monumental and guilt weighed me down as though there was a cleric beast on my back. I couldn’t look at my companions anymore; they were here by my hand. 

And then we emerged from the dimly lit hallway and stepped out onto the brightly lit stage. 

Being marched out there was one of the worst walks I’d ever been on. Every eye in the place was glued to us all. This was the way that ants must feel when humans looked at them. I considered myself lucky that I wasn’t at the beginning or the end of the line. I was also glad that I wasn’t Cato. He was just kind of tossed onto the stage like an afterthought and you could hear scattered laughter as he hit the floor. His whole face burned with rage but he didn’t say anything. It must’ve taken all of his self-control. 

Abbot Minimus turned and addressed the crowd in front of him. His voice bounced around the room in echoes. My head thumped with a headache and the bright torchlight was blinding. In my head I knew that Minimus was saying words but I couldn’t piece them together and make sense of what they were. 

After my eyes had read the room and adjusted to the brightness I began to recognize faces from communion. There was Parzival, the twins friend who had been devouring potatoes. I saw the smiling dark haired girl that had pulled me into the dance and tried to keep up with Frigga. She was not smiling anymore. I scanned the crowd for Gaines, the sensible one. I found him as well but he didn’t seem to be speaking out against this. Surely Fwahe who had always spoken when it was best to stay silent would have something to say but she was nowhere to be found. 

“Don’t you think this is kind of fucked up?!” I shouted. The guard next to me shut me up with another gut punch. If anyone in the room had heard me they didn’t show it. 

No one leapt forward. No one came to our defense. The people we’d advocated for and given blood too didn’t have a shred of loyalty amongst the sea of them. It sickened me right down to the pit of my stomach. Abbot Minimus strode from one side of the stage to the other talking about us like we weren’t there. Not all of the remarks he was making were fully factual either. He was saying things about Templeton that I knew Frigga would not have approved of. Every time he said something that made her uncomfortable, the scholarly hunter shivered, but she didn’t have any books to hide behind up here. They’d all been taken from her. 

I had probably the smallest amount of marketable qualities in Minimus’ eyes. I was never so proud to be useless in my entire life. If I had to choose between a clan that didn’t really want me and going down with the ship I’d prefer to sink with Frigga and the rest. 

Anwen and Imogen went first. Anwen got picked up by a gang of woodland hunters who’d lost their muscle a few weeks ago and needed another person to protect them. Mouse cried when she was taken offstage. Imogen seemed relieved when a girl gang of city hunters took her in. They were friends of Scarlett’s and had all grown up as church hunters together before they discovered it wasn’t for them. They broke off in different directions but maintained a friendship and were happy to do a favor for their lost sister. She wouldn’t have to worry there. 

That wasn’t too bad but when things got to Templeton the room fell silent. Everyone knew that Minimus wanted her to join his scholars. He tried to entice them but no one took the bait, no one was willing to get in the way of what the Abbot wanted. 

It was then that I realized that they were here and they weren’t smiling because they were all terrified. If Frigga could fall then so could they. The cowards weren’t willing to take the risk. Templeton was taken away and Minimus grinned; pleased that he’d gotten his way without any opposition. Anwen had told it true about Mouse and he was taken in by a group of nuns. It might’ve even been better off for him there. There would be other kids, and yeah, the church really sucked sometimes. Still it was probably better than a gang so small he actually had to help hunt at such a young age and so tiny a size. 

It was madness. I was next on the proverbial chopping block. The Abbot mentioned how I’d helped to slay two cleric beasts at the same time. He mentioned that I was half-cut with blood which was a pointless detail. Everyone in the room was cut with blood. To my complete lack of surprise no one seemed at all interested. It looked like it was going to be the mad house for me. 

Of all the times for a beast to attack, why couldn’t it have happened now? I wished a massive crow or wolf would just bust out from the orchestra pit and decimate the crowds. It could’ve saved me the embarrassment of having absolutely no one in all of the English Hunting Community give a shit what happened to me. 

Just as Minimus was going to call it and declare me slated for Execution, Gaines spoke up. He offered the required amount of coins and no one contested his claim. I was led off the stage. Before I had even left I heard a chorus of laughter; Cato was up next and no one was going to want him. 

They didn’t take me back to the dressing room. I was escorted out to the lobby. Everyone else was there since their lives had all been spoken for. Mouse and Anwen were doing their best to hug each other despite the fact that their hands were secured behind their backs. When I entered the room the others seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. 

“See I told you they weren’t going to kill Sterling either.” Anwen said to the sniffling little hunter. 

I went over to where Templeton was, seated on one of the lobby benches. She was coughing and fighting back tears. 

“Hey.” I said. 

“I don’t really….” She muttered. 

“I’m sorry this happened.” I told her. 

“It’s not your fault. I just can’t believe Barristan would do something like this, and poor Lady Frigga all locked up with crazy people. They could kill her Sterling! They might have mixed her in with someone who was gonna transform, you can’t always tell right away. They seem like they’ve gone mad sometimes but they haven’t. She can’t take them out without her cane.” 

She kept on until her fit of coughing caught up with her and she had to stop. I tried to open my stupid mouth and tell her that it was my fault. All of this was because of me, and I was the person that she should be mad at. All of them should be at my throat right now but the words just became ash in my mouth and refused to be spoken. I couldn’t confess. 

“Frigga’ll be ok Temple.” I said, “You know she will c’mon. She’s gonna come back for us all, she’s not going to let Minimus get his way.” 

“She can’t kill them all. Their gonna cheat.” Templeton sighed. 

I tried to think of something else to say but there were no words. We just sat there in silence staring at the doors to the theater wondering if anyone else was going to come join us. You could kind of hear the laughter from the auditorium. It was muffled and we couldn’t hear Minimus’ words. They must still be talking about Cato. 

“He’s going to fucking murder them.” Imogen said. “If he were on his feet he could’ve done something about all this.” 

“Someone might take him if he were gonna heal up.” Templeton replied, “But after tonight I have no idea if he’s ever going to get back to the way he was.” 

Cato wasn’t brought through the doors. We all knew what that meant, and it just fueled the anger inside us all the more. How dare they not want him. How dare they laugh, how dare they all become the Abbot’s little puppets. I couldn’t tell you who was worse the ones who were participating or the ones who were staying silent. I hated them all. 

Rage didn’t do us any good, I guess that is the thing about trying to rely on anger. It doesn’t make a difference when you had ten to fifteen policemen all leading you off in different directions. It didn’t help when you had no weapons and no resources. The silver handcuffs were digging into my wrists, which made the scratches Sasha had given me ache. It reminded me of Barristan by proxy and I tried to stop thinking about it. 

Salem joined us, and then Sage did as well. Everyone except Cato had been spoken for, it was probably better results than we could’ve hoped for but it still felt like shit. When Minimus’ speech ended we got collected from the lobby. Gaines had sent some hunters to bring me a long and they introduced themselves and tried to be friendly, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I didn’t hear a word of what they said. 

The one who did most of the talking was a short stocky hunter, probably around twenty or twenty one. He wore a rather battered brimmed cap on his head. With him came a short female hunter and a larger male with wavy ginger hair. They all had guns at their hips and seemed formidable adversaries. I wouldn’t have fought the three of them even if I had all my strength and my axe back. 

We got into a carriage with several other city hunters, Gaines still not amongst them. There were three city hunters and myself. I sat next to the one who had come and got me from the lobby. He took the cuffs off of me. It was nice to know they didn’t intend to keep me like a prisoner. 

I unwrapped the slipshod bandage I’d patched myself up with the night before. The scratches had scabbed up so it seems I didn’t need to worry about them bleeding. 

“We’ll clean you up when we get home.” Lobby-Boy said to me. “Seems like you could use it.” 

They were the first clear words to get through to me since I’d been arrested. All the same I didn’t thank him. I wanted to know why Gaines had decided to intervene but I couldn’t get my head together enough to cobble a sentence together. They didn’t press the issue. 

The carriage rattled across the cobblestones and I watched the theater and all of my companions fade away behind me. Gaines didn’t bring many hunters with him to communion, it was possible that I wouldn’t ever see any of the Valkyries again, or the Altered Boys. I let that weight settle on my shoulders and hoped I wouldn’t be crushed under the weight of things. 

“Hey, earth to Newblood!” 

“It’s Sterling.” I snapped back at the hunter who’d spoken. She was tiny, with dark brown hair. She had a scarf loosely wrapped around her head. 

“He speaks!” The Hunter who’d collected me from the lobby declared triumphantly. 

“Finally.” The dark haired girl huffed, “We were asking if you’d ever been through Yar’gul before.” 

“Yar who?” I asked. 

“It’s also called the Unseen Village.” Lobby-Boy offered. 

“No. I hardly knew my way around Yharnam. I’m not from around these parts.” I told them. I was trying to keep my answers short, not interested in speaking myself. It might be good to gather information about my new lodgings, but I wasn’t up for small talk right now. 

Dark Hair rolled her eyes and took a gun from her hip. “Do you know how to use one of these?” 

“Sort-of. I’m actually better with throwing knives.” 

She passed me the gun anyway. “You can reload for us then. Getting through Yar’gul can be trouble and Gaines will have our heads if we come back down a man. Even if that man’s a half-trained Newblood.” 

“Sterling.” I said again, “It’s not like a hard name.” 

“Yeah, Tamsin.” The Lobby-Boy replied, he seemed very pleased to have someone to antagonize the short haired gunslinger, Tamsin, with. 

“Oh shut up Ollie!” She spat back and thrust a gun in the lobby boy’s hands, “Just keep your eyes open and your mouth shut.” 

The third hunter hadn’t spoken. He braced the long barrel of his gun on the window frame and kept his finger on the trigger. 

“That’s Simon.” Ollie said, “You’ll have to forgive him he doesn’t talk much.” 

“You mean he doesn’t talk at all.” Tamsin corrected. “Before Gaines took charge of our group he had his tongue cut out. You could say our previous leader didn’t do his job very well.” 

“All the same you should still probably watch your mouth around Gaines.” Ollie advised, “He ain’t so inclined towards violence like Lawrence was, but he won’t let you talk shit about him either. Remember to bow and all those sorts of hunter formalities around him. He oversees all sixty some of us so you don’t gotta worry too hard but he makes the rounds every now and again.” 

“Sixty?” I asked astounded by the number. 

“Yeah, maybe seventy. I don’t know there’s a lot of us all told. We’re one of the bigger groups but Yar’gul is one of the worst territories. There’s more asylums per square inch then anyplace else. I think the madness does strange things to the beasts because they ain’t like the things you find in Yharnam.” Ollie replied. 

“Kos above Ollie stop babbling.” Tamsin commanded. 

Ollie did not stop babbling. They bickered back in forth for the rest of the carriage ride. The vehicle lurched when one of them took a shot, releasing a bullet out of the side of the carriage and felling an unseen enemy. They didn’t stop their back and forth to knuckle down to their sharp-shooting. If anything the banter seemed to help. 

When they ran out of bullets they’d pass their guns to me. There seemed to always be an extra one they could use while I awkwardly pawed at the mechanism, taking far too long to reload the clip. I could hear the dying screams and strange sounds of the creatures that were eliminated by my three new clansmen but I didn’t try to look out the window and see what they were. Hellhounds, crows, deranged denizens it didn’t really matter much too me. 

When we got through Yar’gul after about an hour the gun shots stopped. Tamsin, Ollie and Simon pulled the smoking barrels of their guns back into the carriage. 

“Nice work.” Ollie said with an encouraging smile. He was just humoring me, and it seemed like a veiled insult more than a genuine compliment. 

“Look.” I began, exhausted from Ollie’s efforts to make a connection, “Can we just stop ok? I don’t want new friends or a new clan and I know I’m of no use so let’s just drop it.” 

An uncomfortable silence fell over the carriage. Usually this kind of thing would eat me from the inside out but cold rage had been built up within me. It steeled me against any discomfort. We continued the rest of the way in sublime silence. 

“Welcome to Byrgenwerth.” Tamsin growled as we arrived. 

I watched through the window as four of my new clansmen wedged open an enormous iron gate. The gate was connected to a huge stone wall, three hunters could’ve stood on each other’s shoulders and still not seen over the top of the thing. We passed through the gate and continued down a gravel path. I was surprised by the grounds of the place, they were manicured. Someone must be putting in a lot of effort to keep them from becoming overgrown. Gaines clearly had hunters to spare. 

We circled around a fountain where the path split off in four directions, including the way we had come in. I drew the conclusion that this safe house must’ve been a reclaimed university. The carriage took the path to the north and we came to a halt in front of a massive red brick building. Hunters sparred on the grounds outside, attacking each other with blunted saw cleavers. 

Ollie opened the door and hopped out. Tamsin motioned me to follow him and I complied. She and Simon exited after I did. 

At the top of the buildings’ stairs loomed Gaines dressed in his full hunters coat and cap. A saw cleaver was strung across his back and he looked down at us from the higher ground. Tamsin dropped into an elegant curtsey. Simon, Ollie and I bowed. The greeting was quickly returned by Gaines, and we climbed the steps to join him. 

“No trouble on the road I trust?” He asked, looking to Tamsin. 

She shook her head, “Our carriage was right behind yours, sir. We didn’t experience anything beyond the average enemies Yar’gul throws at you, no trouble at all, sir.” 

“Excellent.” He said giving her a satisfied nod, “You, Simon and Ollie return to your garrisons. I wish to speak with Sterling.” 

They all stamped a foot on the ground and saluted giving Gaines a loud “Sir yes Sir!” before turning and descending the stairs. 

Gaines put an arm around my shoulders and led me into the building. The open doors revealed a lounge area with plush couches and tables stacked with cards. None of Gaines’ Hunters were hanging around the comfortable space. We were the only ones in the place. 

“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here.” He said to me. 

“Yes sir.” I replied. 

“Your original patron and I go back awhile. We have a mutual respect for each other and a brewing hatred for the Abbot. Long has it been our plan to over throw him, but he’s always a few steps ahead of us. Miss Hemlock is far more cautious then I am, she’s had a stroke of bad luck and lost a lot of hunters. She is loath to start a war but it is high time one began.” 

“So you want to use me as blackmail, sir?” I asked, more than a little offended. 

Gaines shook his head, “No of course not. I owe Miss Hemlock a favor, she saved the lives of one of my hunters when she could’ve saved one of her own. I trust that by rescuing you she will see the debt repaid and I can be cleared of all my debts before she meets her unfortunate end. I like to have my things in order Sterling, you understand. There’s always someone who needs to keep the books. There’s always someone who has to count the cost. That is what we do here at Byrgenweth.” 

“You’re all scholars then, sir?” I asked. 

He nodded, “A majority of us are bookkeepers. We control the council’s store of blood vials, their silver, their gold, it is all stored here. We are the tax collectors, but we also have a large military. I was lucky enough to have enough hunters to diversify.” 

“Well I’m glad I could help to clear your debt.” I growled then remembered to add “Sir.” 

Gaines raised an eyebrow at me, “Would you rather have ended up like your companion Cato?” 

I shook my head. 

“Very well then.” Gaines said, then cleared his throat. “You’ll begin your training shortly. The dormitories on the east end are where all of my male hunters are stationed, even given our numbers there’s a wealth of empty berths so you should find a place to settle in. I’ll send one of my captains by tomorrow to get you started.” 

“What about the others, sir?” 

“Others?” Gaines asked. 

“Templeton? Anwen? Imogen? The rest of my…I mean the members of my former clan, sir.” 

“What about them?” He asked me. 

“When will I be able to see them again, sir?” 

He cocked his head to the side in thought, “There’s a chance you could become a captain in my ranks and accompany me to communion. The tournament will also provide amble opportunity for socialization and I encourage my hunters to attend, yourself included. I understand if you prefer not to, things with Miss Hemlock might not go the way we’d both have planned. There’s also a chance you’ll see the bookish little scholar, Templeton I believe it is? Abbot Minimus sends his scholars here from time to time, though I’m not sure if she’ll be welcomed with open arms.” 

“Why is that sir?” I asked. 

“There’s a lot of history you ought to be caught up on.” Gaines informed me, “But I should hardly be the one too tell you. Miss Hemlock or Cato would be a more appropriate choice. They experienced most of these events first hand. I’ll see if I can’t pull some strings and provide you an opportunity to visit with your former patron.” 

“Thank you very much, sir!” I exclaimed, overjoyed at the prospect of seeing Frigga again. Mad house or otherwise I was sure she would come up with a clever plan to bring us all back together. 

“You’re welcome Sterling. I make no guarantees of course, but when I settle a debt I prefer to pay it in full, you understand?” 

I nodded. 

He cleared his throat again, “Well it’s time you got to bed, I’m sure it’s been a long day. You’ll be able to pick up some new clothes once you arrive. I’ve been assured each and every wardrobe is well stocked, though be sure to bathe before you select something less worn in. We do put an emphasis on presentation, you will find.” 

Again I nodded, then bowed and exited the room. Everything was where Gaines had said it would be, the Eastern Dormitories were sensibly furnished and the washroom was clean. My bath water became grimy with blood and dirt. I had to drain and refill the tub several times. Sticks, bugs and a few leaves came out of my hair. The soap that was provided smelled of lavender which drew me back to the stately house I’d woken up in where Templeton had given me my first beast blood injection. 

I hoped that she would be able to come here soon, her dirty glasses and messy hair would be a welcome sight in these well-ordered new surroundings. Waiting for me in one of the dormitory wardrobes was a thick set of flannel pajamas. The fresh clothing also smelled of the lavender - memories I couldn’t escape. There was a bed in the room, no hammock. A blunted saw cleaver hung on pegs over the door. There was also a large desk with a sensible wooden chair and a brass reading lamp. A leather bound book waited for its reader on the desk’s polished wooden surface. It would have to keep waiting, Templeton had never had the time to teach me to read. 

I crawled under the sheets and pulled them up to my neck. They felt starchy and unused. The pillow was full and fluffed, not at all like the lumpy thing my hammock had contained. I lay in what was easily the nicest space ever given to me, but everything felt borrowed, I didn’t belong to this space. 

The darkness brought the guilt. A barrage of thoughts kept me wide-eyed. Foremost in my mind was the sound of Fla’rue’s spine snapping. I heard it in every click of boots in the hallway, it echoed in the slam of every door. I’d even jumped when someone in the next room had flicked the switch to turn their reading lamp on. The walls were so thin I could hear them turning every page. I was worried Templeton’s cough would go untreated, that the mad house doctors wouldn’t be able to patch up Cato’s new wounds. I even found time to worry about Anwen, hoping that she wouldn’t be devoured by some snake beast in the woodlands. 

When sweet, sweet exhaustion finally kicked in and forced my body to sleep my dreams were full of flames. I watched the library smolder and collapse while the Stranger’s terrible laugh echoed in my ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	13. Chapter the Thirteenth : In Which I Adjust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sterling adjusts to his new life at Byrgenwerth, and we get a bit of backstory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think!

I woke up the next morning, and this time it was actually morning, it was not just the beginning of nightfall. I was shaken out of my dreams by a knock on my door. Sunlight came in through the dormitory window. I blinked a few times to clear my head and adjust my eyes before tossing off the covers and walking barefoot across the floor. Standing outside was a large hunter that I didn’t recognize. He had a scar that ran across one of his eyes and up into his eyebrow. He seemed a formidable wall of a person. 

Still dizzy with sleep I gave him a bow; it was too early to get into a fight with a guy this big over forgotten formalities. He returned it and then spoke. 

“Good morning Sterling, I am Captain Ivor, and Lord Gaines has put you in my charge. Tamsin told me you don’t have much practice with guns, and I intend to change that. I don’t know what you were taught when you were stationed with Miss Hemlock, but around here everyone knows how to contribute.” 

“Alright, alright no need to throw punches at Frigga.” I mumbled. 

“You got something to say to me?” Ivor growled. 

I shook my head, stamped my foot and saluted as I’d seen Tamsin and the gang do the night before. “Sir no, Sir!” I shouted. 

Ivor gave me a satisfied smile. I guess I was learning, adapting like a wild animal to domesticated life. “Get dressed and meet me next door in the dining hall in fifteen minutes. Everyone eats in cycles around here, and if you miss your time slot you’re out of luck. I won’t be missing breakfast on your account.” I nodded and closed the door. It was nice to have a clean shirt and pants again. The outfit I found in my closet was largely like Templeton’s. Hooded capelet, starched white shirt and pants with suspenders. It was nice but it didn’t keep out the chill the way my old Hunter’s coat had. I was also supplied with the traditional hunters cap, so I let the hood of the capelet hang loose and donned it. Ivor had said we’d be working with guns, but it never hurt to be prepared. I removed the blunted saw cleaver from its pegs and strapped it across my back, just in case. 

The dining hall was smaller than I thought it would be. There were four tables that sat four people each and they were spread out a good distance from each other. It hardly seemed like the kind of space sixty people would share. Ivor was the only other hunter in the room and I joined him at his table. Silent Simon brought us a tray of eggs, toast and bacon a few moments later. Ivor and I dined without conversation the only sound was the scraping of forks against our plates. 

After the tray was cleared away we got up and headed out onto the grounds. I followed a half-step behind the captain. Byrgenwerth was full of buildings, vast and spread out. Sunlight sparkled on the early morning dew. Every time we passed through a ray of light, I paused and let the warmth cut through my clothes. It slowed our pace but Ivor made no comment. 

We reached our destination, a huge oval of dirt and sand that was once used for running track. The Byrgenwerth hunters had converted it into a shooting range with wooden targets and glass bottles. Tamsin had already taken a position and was firing off a pistol, hitting everything she locked eyes on. She made no move to acknowledge us, and we made none to greet her. Ivor took me to a storage shed full of just about every firearm I could name, and then some. I spent the next two or three hours unloading and reloading clips. My fingers got caught in the snapping metal more than once. Ivor always wanted it done faster, and pushed me to a quicker pace time and time again. 

Before lunchtime I could load every gun in the shed. Once Captain Ivor had deemed me competent with it, I got to take apart and put together all of the guns. That was a lot more difficult. I sat in a pile of disassembled blunderbuss parts trying to remember where they’d all come from. Tamsin strolled over and watched with a sly amused grin on her face as I fumbled with the machinery. 

She got bored of my incompetence pretty quickly and instead of being a silent bystander she stepped in to help. Tamsin walked me through the guns construction and disassembly. It took me three tries but I finally got it put back together and so we moved over to the next gun. 

It wasn’t until the sun was starting to set that we actually made it onto the practice range. I loaded my gun, took aim and missed the first ten shots I rattled off. Then came more coaching and more wasted bullets. When the sky turned pink and orange in sunset hues I finally managed to hit the bottle I’d been aiming for. We continued until the sky was navy and the targets were all but invisible. 

Captain Ivor was leading me back to the dining hall when we were intercepted by an energetic hunter with a message from Gaines. Apparently his string-pulling had worked and I was to go see Frigga instead of getting to eat and sleep. I ignored my growling stomach and raced across the grounds with my new guide. We stopped at the iron gates that I’d come through the night before. I found a carriage waiting for me. I climbed inside the door, Gaines was seated inside. I did my best to bow in the cramped space and he inclined his head to me in return. 

“Thank you, sir!” I said. 

“You may want to wait until after you’ve spoken with Miss Hemlock before thanking me. I don’t expect this will be an experience you enjoy.” He cautioned. 

“I’ll remember that, sir.” I replied. 

Our carriage rattled out onto the cobblestone streets and Byrgenwerth disappeared behind us. Gaines didn’t say much of anything as our ride continued. He just passed me a standard hunters’ blunderbuss and told me to keep my eyes up. We must’ve been approaching Yar’gul, the Unseen Village. The terrain changed from padded dirt to rickety cobblestone. I stuck the barrel of my gun out of the window of the carriage, and Gaines pointed his firearm out the opposite side. 

I was not prepared for what I saw. 

The city had been ravaged by horrifying creatures. I thought Sister Veera had been bad when she became the wolf-beast, but she had nothing on these grotesque monstrosities. Crawling through the streets were slug-like things that seemed to have been made of melted human heads all forced together and shoved into a tiny wooden chest. Snail-like they lugged their man-made burdens behind them and used spindly forearms with large clawed hands to pull themselves down the paths. There were four legged creatures who seemed to have all their skin stripped away and were entirely exposed bones and innards. They chased after the carriage, jaws snapping. 

If that hadn’t been bad enough already, there were humans burning on pikes in the middle of the street and the carriage driver had to weave between them. I thought I saw hordes of denizens trying to climb up the facades of buildings only to realize after a few sightings that they weren’t alive. They’d all been turned to stone. 

“Eyes up!” Gaines shouted at me. 

I re-focused out my window in time to see one of the bone-wolves leaping at our ride. I fired a shot but the creature was undeterred. It charged at us from the left leaping at the carriage, powerful front paws extended. It latched its claws onto the side of our vehicle, tipping the balance and causing us to topple. The horses whinnied in fear and confusion as the carriage lifted off of its right wheels. The wolf had miscalculated, and brought on its own death. I heard the bones of the creature snap as it was crushed on the falling side of the carriage, my side. I was tossed about like a rag doll. 

Gaines, who had clung to the door handle, and was now hanging above me, pulled himself out of the carriage through the window. I heard the click of his saw cleaver as it extended. 

“Sterling, get out here and help the driver, we’ve got to get this carriage on its wheels again.” 

“Sir yes sir!” I shouted and pulled myself through the same window. 

The melted face slugs had noticed us and were clawing their way closer and closer. The horses by some miracle hadn’t broken any legs and the carriage driver was trying to keep them calm. I looked around for Gaines hoping he might be able to help me shove the carriage back into shape but when I glanced over my shoulder he was dancing between two of the slugs, dodging blows and slashing at their limbs with his cleaver. 

“Some help?” I asked turning to the driver. 

He looked up from his horses and nodded. The two of us pushed against the carriage with all of our might, but it wouldn’t budge. 

“We can’t turn it over!” I shouted to Gaines. I felt useless as he’d already slain both the slugs and was charging back towards us. 

“Damn.” He cursed. More of the grotesque creatures were beginning to close in. I saw them running down the exterior staircases of the enormous buildings. Red hellhounds, the hairy denizens with wooden shields, and grey-skinned women who wore charcoal cloaks. They all flooded together into an oncoming mob. Gaines vaulted on top of the carriage for a better vantage point. His mind was racing as he took everything in. Within seconds he seemed to have come up with a strategy and was barking orders. 

“Sterling, I need you up here.” He shouted to me. I awkwardly clambered onto the top of the carriage, using the driver’s seat and fancy filigrees for handholds. 

“Sir.” I said trying to keep the fear from my voice as I stood at the top of the carriage. You could see everything charging towards us. They were a wave of nightmares and another one of those bone-wolves was at the front of the pack. 

“Alright Sterling, you’re going to be the bait.” He told me. I sighed, I’d heard this one before and it had not ended well. Still Gaines’ life was on the line as well as mine this time. It wasn’t as though betrayal would help him survive. He had made an effort to help me, and I had to give trusting him a chance. Plus we were going to see Frigga. All the same I wish his trust could’ve been experimented with in a situation that didn’t have my life hanging in the balance. 

Still I nodded and he gave me a confident pat on the back. He told me to sit on the edge of the window, distract the enemy and duck down inside the carriage when I heard him shout my name. I shifted into position as he shouted instructions to the driver. 

Before I could wish him luck, Gaines hopped off the side of the carriage and ran towards the horde of monsters, taunting them. He was waving his saw cleaver above his head. Once he got the bone-wolves attention he swiftly about-faced and charged back towards the carriage leading the horrifying monster right towards us. 

The bone-wolf was incredibly fast. It quickly outdistanced the others. Its enormous paws shook the ground as it bounded along in pursuit of its prey. Gaines was nearly at the carriage now, and as he’d instructed I began to wave my arms trying to attract the monster’s attention. It worked easily and soon the thing settled its weight onto its back legs, preparing to leap. 

By this time Gaines had reached the carriage and was clinging to the footman’s perch on the back, waiting for the right time to leap into position. 

“Sterling now!” Gaines shouted as he made his move to stand atop the overturned carriage. 

The first wolf had come at us from the left, but this one charged from the right. As the creature sprung towards me I dropped into the carriage. The wolf noticed Gaines too late and the leader of Byrgenwerth dug his saw cleaver deep into the beasts’ shoulder. He held his weapon in one hand and clung to the luggage rack with the other. The falling weight of the enormous wolf in tangent with a shove from the hidden driver turned the carriage back on to its wheels. 

I heard something snap, and hoped it was the wolves’ neck instead of an important part of our vehicle. Gaines and the driver didn’t waste a second. The driver was in his seat and urging the horses onward before I’d even fully grasped what had happened. Gaines clung to the footman’s’ perch at the back of the wagon, picking off anything that got too close with his blunderbuss. He didn’t join me back inside until we were out of Yar’gul. He didn’t offer me any congratulations either, just re-took his seat and continued on in silence. Our ride was more rickety then before, something was definitely damaged, but we made it to the mad house in one piece. 

Gaines took me inside, the driver staying out in the street to do some repairs. The inside of the asylum smelled like sour milk, and my nose wrinkled up in distaste. The lobby was full of orderlies and their patients, all dressed in white cotton gowns. Some wore handcuffs. Others had cuffs that went around their ankles, hobbling their feet and giving them an unnatural, stilted gait. I scanned the lobby but I couldn’t spot Frigga’s silver hair on any of the people milling about. Gaines went over and talked to one of the orderlies. She led us on to an elevator a few moments later. 

The second floor, where we’d stopped contained a hallway with row after row of iron doors. It was far more prison then hospital. The orderly led us to Frigga’s cell, unlocked it and allowed me to step inside. Gaines assured me he would wait in the hallway and that I’d be given however long I needed. I stepped into the small room. 

There was a lantern hanging from the ceiling, which illuminated the room. A barred window on the far side allowed moonlight to come through and add its strange glow. The only other thing in the room was a bed, which Frigga was sitting on. I hadn’t recognized her at first. 

Instead of her neatly combed, cascade of hair she now wore a short uneven, angular bob. Her fine vest and fancy dress had been replaced with a white cotton gown. Her hands were in her lap, secured around the wrists with a new set of heavy iron cuffs. She lifted her chin and looked up at me. 

I tried to greet her normally but I just up and blurted, “Frigga…your hair!” 

She chuckled good naturedly, but there was a melancholy tone to her voice when she spoke, “One of the wig-makers came here, most mad houses let them. There was a mistake, they didn’t realize that I was just being held here, or maybe they did but just didn’t care. Either way...” 

“Kos above.” I hissed. 

“Do you know what’s happened to the others, Templeton? Mouse? Any of them?” She asked me, quickly changing the subject. 

I told her as best I could remember where each had gone and how I figured they were fairing. I was sorry I couldn’t give her the whereabouts’ of the twins because I hadn’t been in the auditorium when they’d been reassigned. She seemed at peace with most of the placements. I didn’t have the heart to tell her some of the things Minimus had said about Templeton or the way the other hunters had jeered at us. 

“Have you seen Cato?” I asked 

“He’s here alright.” Frigga said, “They’ve started him on physical therapy, attempting to get him to walk again. Now that someone’s forcing him to do it he doesn’t want to. I think he’s gotten attacked by an irritated nurse with a cane more the once.” 

“Jeeze.” I said 

“The other inmates all adore him.” Frigga said, “He’s just trying to show off.” 

“He’ll be alright then?” I asked. 

She nodded, “We’re all going to be alright. I wouldn’t have gambled with any of your lives if I wasn’t sure that I were up to the challenge.” 

“Frigga…I need to tell you something.” I said and then bit my lip. She looked at me, and nodded for me to continue, “Something about that..that uh..beast in the library. It wasn’t…just like some…freak accident. It was my fault.” 

I began to tell her about the woods and Barristan again. I didn’t leave out any of the details. I found it much easier to speak to Frigga one on one. The silence that had stopped up my confessions before released its choke hold. Everything came out shaky and nervous at first but as I continued it just flowed out of me like someone had opened a dam. She didn’t make any comments or say anything until I was done. It wasn’t until every last apology and explanation had been spoken that she reacted. 

She stood and lifted her cuffed hands. I tensed, bracing myself for a slap in the face. 

It didn’t come. She laid her hands on my shoulder and pulled me in close to her, embracing me as best she could. “You could not have predicted this.” She reassured me, “This is all because of Barristan.” 

“I still led him back, the library fell…’ 

She stepped back from me and sat on the bed again, shaking her head and ignoring my excuses “I think it’s time I told you about Atlee. There’s a chance I won’t get another opportunity to do it.” 

I sat on the floor of the cell and rested my back against the wall. This story seemed like it was going to take a while. 

“You have to understand, the beasts’ blood we take slows down the aging process a good bit, so I have been a hunter for longer than it seems.” Frigga began. She was sitting with her back straight and looking me straight in the eye as she spoke. “The hunts been going on for a long time, I grew up knowing that the beasts would come out in the night. Our city was small and we must’ve been one of the first to fall. The Chapel protected us during the night time and the church hunters were the admiration of the entire city.” 

You could see her eyes start to wander, drifting away from my gaze then up past my forehead and onto the stone wall behind me. They fixed themselves there as Frigga slipped back into old memories. She continued, “They were my heroes too, and it terrified my parents. All of our childhood games centered around the nightmarish things we as children couldn’t understand. Children never understand, and our Chapel capitalized on this. They came after us, hand-selected us when we turned seven. No one could resist them, or they’d threaten to leave. It wasn’t really a problem, most kids volunteered, myself one of them.” 

She shook her head like she was trying to communicate the scope of her mistakes to a phantom of herself that wasn’t there. 

“We all make mistakes.” I offered. 

“Yes.” She replied, “Yes I suppose we do.” 

A heavy silence filled the room. I coughed, not because I had the urge but just to break the tension. It seemed to be the necessary catalyst. She cleared her throat and carried on. 

“They trained us, taught us about Kos and the Old Gods, but also writing and mathematics. It was better schooling than any other girls my age were getting. I also learned how to fight, trick weapons we’re widely popular at the time. I grew up on classic swordsmanship with fencing and foils, I think that’s all they knew how to teach. Learning from a butcher would’ve been more help. My first night out I expected the monsters to fight politely, like my instructors had.” 

I had to hold in a chuckle as my brain conjured the image of the bone-wolf that Gaines had felled standing upright and holding a fencing foil between its teeth. 

“It was actually rather like you and Barristan.” Frigga said, “I didn’t realize that the church was using children as bait. There was an enormous great wolf that they’d put me up against, they were going to sneak around behind it while it was devouring me and finish it off that way. I was standing, facing it head on, my sword was shaking, I could hardly lift the thing I was so small. I remember it jumping at me, and I expect I screamed but it never made contact. She, Atlee, came at that wolf with a rolling pin of all things, and slammed it in the snout before it could get close. It growled at her and she cemented her stance and growled right back, daring it to come towards her. She was fearless and I was in awe.” 

“What did the church have to say about that?” I asked. 

She passed and cocked her head to the side in thought, “I can’t remember. They were angry I expect, Atlee was always breaking out to join hunts she hadn’t been assigned too and I wasn’t the first person she’d saved. They usually banished her to the kitchen as punishment and I gather that’s where the rolling pin came from. One of the other people she’d saved was Templeton, the three of us became pretty close. Templeton never became decent at fencing, and the High Priestess sent her out to be bait more often than not. Luckily Atlee and myself made great sparring partners and we worked together saving whoever we could until we were strong enough to set out on our own.” 

“You left the church?” I asked, “Just like the Altered Boys.” 

She nodded, “We escaped one night, left everything we knew behind. Templeton planned it all out and she could read a map. Without her we would’ve never got to Yharnam and might have been woodland hunters for the rest of our days. Templeton’s guidance got us through, but Atlee’s fearless attitude propelled us onwards.” 

Every time she said Atlee’s name her lips darted into a smile. It was out of place in the grim hospital, but a welcome abnormality all the same. 

“She marched right into communion once she found out that was where all the hunters needed to go to find a clan. Atlee dared anyone to challenge her, and that kind of boldness was just unheard of before. Abbot Minimus wasn’t running things it was a priestess, Abbess Jocelyn. She was old and much inclined towards formalities, so she sent out one of her biggest burliest hunters, she must have thought that Atlee was all talk and no talent. Watching her dance circles around that big hunter was when I noticed that I felt very strongly about the girl who’d saved my life. I felt like she was the stars that make the night worthwhile, and when I stood next to her I felt untouchable. I never cowered from a beast while Atlee was around and felt no different at communion. I loved her fiercely.” 

“So she did defeat the Abbesses’ challenge?” I asked prompting her to continue. 

“She obliterated him.” Frigga chuckled, “She won the respect of the whole room and every clan in it wanted her to join them. She wouldn’t go without me or Templeton; made sure we stuck together. The group we ended up joining was over a hundred hunters strong and it was stationed at Byrgenwerth, the same clan that Gaines now heads. At that time it was run by a man called Alastair, Father Alastair he liked to be called. It was all church run still. The high walls and multitudes upon multitudes of hunters at arms made us feel safe and secure. Atlee and I spent our time training, learning what we could about the beasts but we also stole away hours with each other watching the world go by from rooftops. Templeton became so involved with the Byrgenwerth scholars we hardly saw her anymore.” 

I adjusted my position, the floor and walls were not very comfortable. Frigga didn’t seem to notice, she made no effort to slow her storytelling and I was trying to hear every syllable. It was hard to imagine her smitten with some ferocious rolling-pin wielder. She just didn’t seem like the relationship type. 

“Our sneaking off was noticed of course. There were rumors of all kinds about the causes for turning and relationships of mine and Atlee’s nature were no exception.” She maneuvered the ill-fitting cotton dress and revealed her shoulder. A cross had been branded into her skin, I’d never seen it before given the nature of the fine clothing she often wore. “When they found out, they gave us these.” 

“Jeeze.” I winced. 

Frigga shrugged, “We’d both had worse injuries from beasts and if anything it just solidified our commitment to each other. Things began to change for us though. Alastair wouldn’t send us on missions together. They moved Atlee to the men’s dorms and never scheduled our meals for the same time. They put me on night watch and her on morning. We began to send each other messages through Templeton who was more than happy to help. She never denied us favors.” 

“She still doesn’t.” I said, “She thinks the world of you.” 

Frigga nodded her agreement. “She did all she could for us, even changed the schedule a few times so that we might have an hour or two together. No one suspected her, I think they’d all forgotten she’d been with us at the beginning since she wasn’t a great fighter. Things weren’t ideal but we were able to exist this way.” It seemed like Frigga was in that state constantly. She adapted herself to her surroundings and worked with whatever was around her, enough to carry on but never enough to satisfy. I wish I had Cato’s ferocity or Anwen’s strength, something that would’ve been able to assist her in escaping this place. I knew even if I had both those things to excess it wouldn’t have made a spot of difference. She wasn’t trying to escape. 

“We got impatient, an unfortunate side effect of young love. We both pleaded for Templeton to arrange more meetings, pass more notes. We forgot in our haste that she had her own life. The Byrgenwerth scholars were working on a cure, that really hasn’t changed much I suppose. Kos, we were all so stupid.” 

She took another pause and I listened to the far off sounds of footsteps and laughter as other patients roamed the halls. 

“They kept beasts in cages for studying, turned the library into a zoo and tried to keep subjects in all stages of the transformation on display. Templeton spent hours each day observing them, and she still had time to pull strings for us. I found out later that she was close to a break through, and that she’d stopped sleeping, working through the night.” 

I remembered Frigga forcing Templeton to sleep. It seemed our scholar’s habits hadn’t changed much. 

“They’d brought in a new subject for her, and it was a boy her own age. He was terrified, in the early stages but he still had his brains. It had been a long time since they had caught one so early and Templeton quickly befriended him and assured him she’d be able to help him. She was so trusting and he charmed her.” 

This surprised me, I was certain that Templeton had been interested in Frigga. It was clear from the way she’d been mad after Frigga and Fwahe had spent a night together. It wasn’t just Frigga either; Templeton had all but ignored Thistle’s romantic advancements. 

“She was charmed?” I asked. 

“Yes.” Frigga replied, “That infected boy was her first kiss. He paid attention to her when we were ignoring her, encouraged her research. He read the books that she gave him, they ate together. She was charmed.” 

“I see.” I said. She continued. “ If Atlee and I had been paying attention we probably could’ve stepped in and warned her but we didn’t notice. She was determined to help him and he begged her for blood, said he was dying. The Byrgenwerth scholars insisted on keeping their subjects blood-starved but Templeton saw blood as a possible solution. She wanted to test her theory.” 

“She couldn’t have been that stupid.” I argued. 

“She let her curiosity get ahead of her. I think the sleep deprivation also contributed to the lack of judgement. She loved him, and love has always been stronger then common sense. “ 

I nodded, and could see the truth therein. 

“Still she wasn’t going to attempt anything by herself. She pleaded for Atlee and I to help her, I wasn’t able to. I’d been sent out hunting and she hadn’t been able to get me out of it, but Atlee agreed to assist her. One vial was all it took for the boy to get his strength back, and he transformed before their eyes. Templeton was horrified, and the boy become beast tried to lunge at them. The cage held but the scholars found out. They were outraged and decided that Templeton’s mistake merited an extreme punishment. Byrgenwerth had always been an eye for an eye kind of place, and they decided that Templeton would be used for testing herself, forced overdose was the official term they used.” 

“Shit.” I said, “That’s harsh.” 

“Atlee and I were enraged of course but we couldn’t take all of Byrgenwerth. We had protected her all this time, and we weren’t about to see her slain. Without Templeton’s meddling however, we had no time to plan our rescue. We were supposed to run away together again. With our new skills we could flee Byrgenwerth and become a clan of our own, there were those who would leave with us and I began appealing to them. 

Atlee didn’t have my patience. She decided to free Templeton that very night and broke into the library, alone but unopposed. She got Templeton free of the cage and told her to get her things and run. Templeton’s research was a mess and it took her awhile to sort through it all. No one had bet on the beasts’ cleverness, the one that Templeton had created. It had fooled us into thinking it could not escape the cage, but it could and it did. The beast had escaped while they were distracted and it wrenched open the cages of lesser subjects devouring them and grew in power and size.” 

“Surely they heard it.” I said. 

“They were deep in the stacks and it was clever and quiet, but when it grew, snapping and cracking it’s bones it did not know its own size. Candles were knocked over and the building began to blaze. Atlee urged Templeton to leave, they smelled the fire and the smoke. Your efforts with her were much the same, but unlike you Atlee had no one to fight the beast while she got Templeton out. The beasts’ hunger was all consuming and after he had consumed all of the subjects he turned on them.” 

Her voice started to falter as she continued. The hands, flat in her lap before now turned to fists, her fingernails pressing into her palms. “If Templeton would have just left things would have been fine, but she still somehow thought he could be stopped. The beast spoke with the boys’ voice and she tried to reason with it. Research forsaken, Atlee pushed her out the second floor window, turning to jump herself. The beasts’ claws got around her before she could flee and she was never seen again. The library and all of its secrets and research burned. Templeton ran and I found her later I had brought Anwen and Barristan with me. I was enraged but all of my anger would do nothing to bring Atlee back.” 

Templeton and I had made virtually the same mistake. Frigga had taken control of the library fire so easily, she must have been haunted by her absence at the Byrgenwerth incident. 

“All four of us attended the next communion. I took responsibility for Templeton’s actions and defeated a Byrgenwerth hunter in a trial by combat. The Abbess took this to mean that Kos himself was advocating for our lives and assigned us all to the Valkyrie unit. It was months before Templeton and I spoke again, but you can’t stay mad forever.” 

She had finished her tale and let silence settle in the room. She pulled the shoulder of her gown back up, covering the scar. I didn’t know what to say, and I stopped and started a few sentences. 

“It’s alright Sterling.” She said, “I’ve made my peace with it.” 

“I’m sorry that I-“ 

“You were just like her.” Frigga said, “You didn’t know any better. Abbot Minimus has given me the opportunity I had to save us all, same as the Abbess years ago. History tends to repeat itself and I won the last trial.” 

“You can’t practice in here.” I said, “The other hunters will be preparing themselves and spending all of their time trying to take you down.” 

“I’m not afraid of them.” Frigga replied calmly. 

That kind of bold defiance of the odds must have been the same fearlessness that Atlee faced her challenges with. Frigga was a living memento of the fallen hunter, and she carried her position with honor and grace. She inspired the same awe that she had felt when as a child she’d been saved from the Greatwolf. Her fearlessness was contagious. 

I stayed with her as long as I could and told her about Byrgenwerth, Ivor and Tamsin. I told her about our journey here and she commended me for standing my ground. I asked to see Cato but she said they’d put him in solitary after he bit a nurse. He probably wouldn’t have wanted me to see him like this anyway. Gaines had assured me I could take as much times as I wanted, but Frigga and I knew when dawn started to leak through her barred window that we were pushing it. 

“Go on Sterling. I’ll see you at the tournament.” Frigga said 

I walked to the door, then turned and bowed. “Goodnight Lady Frigga.” 

I was sick of everyone calling her Miss Hemlock. She stood and bowed back and when we raised our heads I saw that she was smiling. A little respect went a long way in a place like this. 

I was relieved that we made the journey through Yar’gul in early daylight. The monsters had claimed the city and didn’t seem to recede in the light as much as those beasts in Yharnam did. We could still see them lurking in the shadows, and the occasional hellhound would dart across the sunlit street in front of us but they weren’t a mob anymore and we were fast enough to get by without incident. 

We passed through the gates of Byrgenwerth and a messenger was waiting for us. Ivor wanted me at the shooting range as soon as I got back. He was more frustrated with me today then the day before but I just couldn’t focus on the targets. My mind drifted and I wondered abstract things, curious as to whether or not Atlee and Frigga had trained on this shooting range. Did Templeton ever fire the same used-for-practice gun that I was holding. I felt like someone had pulled away the ropes at a museum and I was allowed to touch everything. It was an intoxicating kind of forbidden and the whole day I was afraid I’d get shouted at for trespassing. Instead I got shouted at for being a waste of bullets. 

After training had ended and the dining hall had been visited I was free to roam the grounds. It was night and there was a decent chill in the air but I wanted to explore things a bit more. Byrgenwerth was huge and I was afraid I might get lost if I wandered too far into it’s depths. I resolved to make a right turn at every fork in the road I came too, making my backtracking easier. The ground underfoot was ever changing, from paved brick to winding gravel. Most of the windows of the buildings shone with candlelight. Faint laughter and voices grew stronger as I passed them, then faded away behind me. I kept walking past them. 

Subconsciously I knew I was seeking it out but I was still surprised when I found it. The buildings were all decorative, the grounds well maintained, the walkways were kept clear of fallen leaves. In the idealistic sea of prim and proper I found the gaping hole of abnormality. 

The ruins of the library hadn’t been disturbed. The grass around it had been scorched and had not grown back, it was yellow, brittle and dead. There were scorched doors, shattered glass and piles and piles of burnt books. I picked my way through the debris, clouds of ash blooming everywhere I stepped. Things were different then I’d pictured them but I found the remains of several cages, some of the metal had melted and warped in the blaze but most of it was intact. They were ornate things, even with the chunks that had been ripped out of them by Templeton’s beast. I couldn’t read anything, and even if I had been literate everything was dust. The further into the wreckage I wandered the stronger the sense of violation I felt. If anyone had walked through our library like this, picking stuff up and moving it around like I was I might’ve tried to chase them off with my cleaver. 

I left after that, retracing my steps until I was back at the dorms. The laughter I passed by seemed directed at me, the sky was darker. When I got inside I rubbed my hands together trying to warm life back into them. I headed back to my room and changed into my pajamas after scrubbing the sour milk stench of the mad house off of me. The tournament was fast approaching and I lay awake thinking about it. It was easy to believe Frigga would win when she was standing there fearless and looking you straight in the eyes. The dead of night alone in a borrowed room was another matter. 

I kept thinking about everything she was up against. Minimus himself could choose to fight and he’d chopped off Rook’s fingers without hesistation. He moved impossibly fast, as I imagined that most hunters of hunters did. They had time and numbers and access to the best weapons makers. I didn’t know if the asylum still had the clothing Frigga wore when she was brought there. I didn’t want her to have to show up and battle without shoes in that billowy white gown. I resolved to pack one of my spare sets of clothing for her, just in case. Gaines could chalk it up to his debt. The next few days passed by slowly in a blur of similar events,impossible to distinguish from one another. The routine of Byrgenwerth life was so easy to fall into, I saw the same two people and did the same few things with no variation, it was maddening. It got to the point where I’d mess up a shot just so Tamsin would make some joke about it and I’d be reassured that someone still had some intellect and originality. Everyone else was so rigid and formatted, I sometimes forgot they were people. 

I thought about revisiting the library graveyard but I couldn’t bring myself to go back. At night I would loiter outside one of the big lecture halls where most of the studying and research took place. I was listening for Templeton, hoping that Minimus might have let her come here. She never showed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	14. Chapter the Fourteenth: Tourney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever wonder what a hunters tournament might be like?
> 
> Time to find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think!

On the day of the tournament instead of going to breakfast or the shooting range Captain Ivor took me outside in front of the building where I’d had my private chat with Gaines. Ivor was dressed in full plate armor, shined up so bright it burned your eyes. The entire Byrgenwerth garrison had shown up, equally opulent in attire. Gone were the blunted weapons, everyone had something sharp and deadly strapped to their back. 

“Today we make the journey to Hemwick Charnel Lane,” Lord Gaines said, addressing the crowd. “And at the end of the tournament we shall return here to Byrgenwerth. The only question I want you to worry about between then and now, is what you’re going to bring back with you. Will you triumphantly carry a victory on your shoulders, perhaps a great blade that you were awarded for your efforts? Will you parade at the front of our ranks singing new songs and poems their bards constructed from our battles? Will your reward be a tapestry of bruises and scars born by your opponents? Shall you return with a new title and the respect of all our English brethren?” 

A few in the crowd had shouted affirmations, waving their weapons in the air. Gaines shot every one of these hunters a glare, not interested in celebration. 

“Or will you be glory hounds and let your desire for victory poison us all? Will you let your pride consume you so that lesser enemies will find your weak spots and bring you to your knees? Will you carry home a log book of lessons learned and mistakes made? Will you carry home the burdens of shame and disgrace that our clan has been saddled with for so long? The same shame we’ve had since the days of Lord Alistair and his court?” 

No one was cheering. Hardly anyone was breathing. 

“This is what you must decide!” He shouted. “Let it be known that there will be consequences for those who fail, but oh such will be the rewards if you succeed. I know there is not a hunter amongst you who does not wish to prove their worth, and I expect to see you all in your best form. Bring us glory and bring us honor.” 

Here he stamped his foot and saluted us. He shouted across the grounds, “May the good blood guide your way!” 

We saluted back and roared his sentence back at him, altogether. “May the good blood guide your way!” 

Lord Gaines raised his saw cleaver and descended the staircase. We all parted, making a path through the crowd for him, as he headed for the great gates of Byrgenwerth. The hunters who had to stay behind and keep guard tried to seem apathetic to the parade as we followed behind Gaines. Their eyes betrayed the jealousy and rage they felt towards us, and I tried to avoid their gaze. 

When we arrived at the iron gates there were no carriages waiting. This didn’t stagger anyones progress except my own, they poured through the gates following their leader. 

“You gonna stand there all day?” Tamsin asked grabbing me by the arm and pulling me behind her. 

“There’s no way we can make it through Yar’gul on foot, we barely made it in a carriage.” I stammered, trying to regain my footing as she hauled me along. 

She stopped abruptly and turned to me, eyes narrowed. “Are you saying that over fifty trained hunters can handle those wormy little face monsters and a half dozen hell hounds?” 

“Well…it’s…I…” I tried to find the right words but they wouldn’t come. 

Rather then continue to argue, Tamsin rolled her eyes and continued to yank me along behind her. I felt like a reluctant dog being taken to the vet. 

We marched onward through the night, at a constant clip. It was taxing and I felt myself start to nod off or fall behind. Without fail a Byrgenwerth hunter would nudge me awake, jostling me from my stupor and urging me onward. I was a burden to them but they didn’t complain, in fact they seemed rather pleased to be on the move. We didn’t move through the streets cautiously, darting from shadow to shadow but marched straight down the path. The Byrgenwerth hunters would break into songs or chants if they felt the need, it lightened the mood of the march. The beasts must’ve been quite confused by our boldness and nothing left it’s hiding place to snap at us. We came through Yar’gul like a tidal wave, vast and unopposed. 

Hemwick Charnel Lane was not in the city at some crossroads as I’d expected. The lane turned out to be a battered brick pathway that dropped off before a vast woods. In the receding daylight I reassured myself that this was a different forest then the one Barristan had lured me into. The trees were not as densely packed, and there was an enormous field where the tournament grounds had been constructed. Most importantly there was life in these woods, not the terrifying half-life that was the serpent people, but the eclectic mix of denizens and hunters alike. Cobbled together from spare wood and worn-fabric were numerous carts and stalls selling everything from good luck amulets to good hearty meals. 

My head swung from side to side as I scanned the crowds searching for familiar faces. I was sure that the pale Altered Boys would stand out like a beacon but it was as though I were looking for one bit of seafoam in an ocean, everything swirled and bubbled. Nothing would stand still long enough for me to get a good look at it. This included my current clan who pushed and jostled their way through the assembled, trying their best to keep to formation. Tamsin, who’d been a constant landmark on my right hand side had vanished, swept up in an eddy of people moving the opposite direction. I decided my best chance of finding all the former Valkyries might be with the same strategy. I allowed myself to be shuffled away from the rigid University dwellers by the oncoming crowds. Bobbing and weaving between people, finding the smallest places to slip through I began to head towards the enormous wooden arena that was the centerpiece of the tournament. If I worked my way high enough into the stands then I could get a good look at what was going on, find my bearings and uncover the wearabouts of my scattered family. 

I was certain that’s what we were at this point, a family. I’d never really had one of my own before. Of course, fellow street kids would band together and there were those who when they went heavy on the brandy would slap their arm around your shoulders and call you brother. That all ended when the police showed up and someone had to be held responsible for whatever the lot of you had stolen. Nobody stayed brothers then. The Valkyries, clansmen, hunters whatever you wanted to call them they had proven they were family. They had stood their ground with me and saved my life multiple times. I missed them all so much that it hurt to breathe. 

I passed through a wooden archway draped with banners displaying the coat of arms of the competing hunters. The grandstand looked down on a large oval of sand and dirt, hundreds of hunters were packed into it waiting for their chance to sign up and be a part of the festivities. Loners like myself took to climbing the stands or milling about in the upper levels. I took the stairs three at a time, bounding like a crazed mountain goat until I reached the top. With my hands firmly planted on the wooden railing I looked out over the side back onto the great field. 

The arena was like an anthill and the people below me were it’s colony. I had seen big crowds before but never to this scale, half of England had shown up. Off in the distance I saw a cluster of silk tents with long billowing flags where the wealthier hunters had staked out their camp. More moderate lodgings dappled the muddier fields behind them, extending out towards the horizon. Music drifted through the air played by several different gaggles of performers. There were jugglers and fire-eaters but neither of them seemed to be able to maintain a perimeter long enough to perform their full act. They had to cede their abilities to the torrent of onlookers. 

I felt hypnotized by the pulsating mass of people. I couldn’t stop my eyes from darting all over, examining the clusters below. I took in thousands of separate stories from my perch. I was pulled from my stupor by a tentative hand on my shoulder and a quiet “Excuse me.” 

I whirled around in alarm, amazed someone had snuck up on me in the first place. I was ready to fight them before I caught the familiar flash of oversized glasses and mess of hair that was Templeton. My face lit up in surprise and delight, then clouded over with confusion. I was sure it was her, but her skin had been ravaged by bruises.She seemed to have turned up her collar and tried to maneuver her hair to cover them, they were obvious. She was also wearing the black and red robes that all of Minimus’ followers wore. I bit back my questions and vowed to savor her return. There’d be time for questions later. 

“Templeton!” I exclaimed in delight, “Is it really you?” 

She grinned, “Of course it’s me, though I hardly recognize you. You look a proper Byrgenwerth boy.” 

“Yeah it’s all pretty regimental over there.” I said, “Kos, it’s so good to see you again.” 

I pulled her into a hug, she laughed but returned it. The way she clung to my shoulders not wanting to let go, I got the sense she hadn’t had a friend in a little while. 

“Have you seen any of the others?” Templeton asked looking at me expectantly. 

“Not exactly. We just got here.” I replied. I told her about my time at the asylum with Frigga. The happiness at my familiarity vanished once she knew that I knew. 

“Guess you’ve got to be thinking I’m pretty stupid, huh?” Templeton asked when I had finished. 

I shook my head, “Are you kidding me? We’re practically twins now Temp. We might even be closer then Sage and Salem. I don’t think you’re stupid at all, you’re maybe the only person who could really understand how awful I’ve been feeling. I had to bite my tongue practically in half when I saw Frigga so I didn’t waste the whole time apologizing.” 

“The urge to do that goes away after about the thousandth apology.” Templeton said, “If that makes you feel any better.” 

“Not really.” I admitted. I knew that if we stayed on this subject we’d lapse into awkward silence, so I continued, “Do you want to go look for the others?” 

Templeton’s face lit up again and she nodded. We both leaned over the balcony, two pairs of eyes now trying to find our needles in the haystack. Our overhead perspective provided us no advantage and since both of our stomachs were growling we decided that the stall selling pies was as good a place to continue our search as any. I could swear I had heard someone call out Templeton’s name as we descended the staircase but she showed no sign of attending too it. It couldn’t have been more important than a good meal. 

As luck would have it we weren’t the only ones who’d decided pie for breakfast was a good idea. We found Imogen and her new gang of girls all laughing together and passing a pie plate back and forth. She was delighted to see us, but before we could get into a conversation her gang was ready to move on. Imogen seemed torn but it was clear to both Templeton and myself that she was enjoying her new company and encouraged her to be with her new sisters awhile more. There would be an entire tournament’s worth of time for catching up. She thanked us and wished us well before she sped off to join them. 

Templeton and I finished off a peach pie and continued to travel through the stalls. Merchants tried to appeal to us as hunters offering us weapons or protective incantations. It was unfortunate for them that I was one of the worst hunters ever cut, and Templeton wasn’t going to be participating in the events. The cacophony of voices filled our ears, and we had to shout to communicate with one another. I was screaming my theories about how Ivor had gotten his eyebrow scar at the same instant that a hush fell over the entire crowd. I looked to Templeton who was staring wide-eyed behind me. 

Gleaming on the horizon was a hunter unlike any other, riding boldly forward on a dappled mare. I only knew of one hunter with a horse like that. A horse that had been kept safe by Altered Boy groomsmen and preserved from the church fire while she had been stationed at Cathedral Ward. The inability to find lumber had saved her life. It could be none other then Swift with our Lady Frigga riding atop her. 

Our Lady indeed she was. If I had found Frigga fierce before, and that was just in her day to day gowns. She was now adorned in armor that had been made for her. Every pauldron and bracer was sculpted to fit her perfectly. Templeton and I were sure it was her, even though she kept the visor of her helmet down. The way she held her chin and kept her back straight was a better tell then looking her in the eyes. The aforementioned helmet had been artfully crafted to resemble the snarling face of a lioness. Secured to her shoulders by two clips shaped like lion’s paws was a gossamer light blue cape. It shimmered; near iridescent in the daylight, so sheer you could see the dappled spots of her horse through it. 

It seemed I had indeed brought my spare clothes along for nothing. She’d clearly been provided for. While everyone watched her advance towards the arena Templeton and I tore through the crowd. We knocked over barrels and sprinted past angry salesmen weaving our way towards her, shouting her name. She soon heard us and her head snapped towards us. We grinned and increased our pace until we were right beside her. Templeton and I both dropped into bows. Frigga one upped us, giving her horses’ flanks a tap, the elegant animal dropped down to a knee, and Frigga bowed from atop it. The crowd cheered, then broke into their clamor of whispers, rumors and sales pitches once more. 

Frigga navigated to a patch of unoccupied grass just outside of the arena. She reached a gloved hand down and rumpled Templeton’s hair up real good. The scholar laughed. 

“I missed you so much!” Templeton cried. 

Frigga took off her helm and smiled down at us, “Oh I’ve missed you too.” When their eyes met Frigga’s face clouded with the same confusion mine had, she didn’t hesitate long, “Who’s done this to you Temp?” 

Templeton blushed and looked away, “I don’t know what you mean.” She lied. 

Swift stamped her foot, as though she’d picked up on our lady’s irritation. “Those bruises, Templeton. Who gave them to you?” 

“It’s nothing compared to your hair.” Templeton replied desperate for a subject change. 

Before Frigga could make her reply a figure even more imposing joined us. I knew in a moment it had to be Minimus, he too had found ways of acquiring a horse and rode astride an enormous black stallion. He must’ve made note of the respect Frigga had commanded while on horseback and wanted to imitate it. His armour was of no lesser make nor weaker material then Frigga’s but wasn’t fashioned after any particular animal. He carried his helm in his hands. A large red and black cape, heavy as Frigga’s was thin hung from his shoulders. 

He removed one of his gloves and hurled it at Templeton to get her attention. It hit her full in the face and she whirled around wide-eyed to take in the imposing figure. She seemed smaller then ever. 

“Have you been ignoring me Templeton? I called for your earlier.” Minimus said 

So I hadn’t just been hearing things on the staircase. 

Templeton didn’t meet his gaze. She bowed, respectfully which prompted me to do the same. Frigga hardly dipped her head. 

Then our scholar stammered out “N-n—no sir, it’s loud…didn’t he-hear you sir. Honest.” She was shaking all over as she spoke. It was evident in her hands, which she attempted to conceal behind her back along with her twitching legs. They were fairly well hidden by her new robes but Frigga and I could still tell. 

“Well you’re hear to listen to me now and in the future I suggest you don’t stray quite so far. You need to come with me now.” 

Templeton’s hands clenched into still-shaking fists. She kept her eyes closed as she spoke, “S-s-sir…A..Abbot Minimus please…I haven’t seen her in..s-so long s-sir…please can’t it wait just a minute sir?” 

“No it absolutely cannot!” He barked. 

“Y-es sir..” She whimpered. Her voice was shaking as bad as her body was and she gave us both a quick bow before turning to follow after the Abbot. 

“If he’s been hitting her I swear to god I’ll rip him in half.” I growled to Frigga. 

“You’ll have to wait in line, Sterling.” Frigga said to me through gritted teeth. “You’ll have to wait in line behind me and I promise you there won’t be very much left to tear apart once I’m through with him.” 

We let our resolution settle over us as Templeton and Minimus disappeared into the arena. My concern for the scholar was massive but more so were my questions for Frigga. I turned to her, still rather awed by the way she looked. “Where did you get that armor?” I asked her. 

She grinned, “It was made for me a long time ago, but I’ve had hardly an occasion to use it. The Altered Boys aren’t the only ones who keep a thing or two hidden away in Cathedral Ward. I was able to send a message out for Fwahe and she retrieved it, along with Swift for me.” 

“I thought they might’ve made you show up in your hospital gown.” I said, “This suits you much better.” 

She laughed, agreeing with me. “Have you seen any of the other Valkyries?” 

“Templeton and I found Imogen earlier. She seems to be fitting in really well with her new clan, I think their helping her get over Scarlett. No signs of anyone else, especially not that bastard Barristan. The whole place is so damn crowded though it’s hard to find anyone.” 

“I thought you were some kind of street savant.” Frigga mocked, “Surely someone of your talents can track down a few measly hunters.” 

“Is that a challenge, Lady Frigga?” I asked raising my eyebrows. It was as though Frigga was parading down the library tabletops once more, poised and playful. She exuded an infectious confidence. I could see why she hadn’t been phased even by the madhouse now. In her armor she was a god. 

“It most certainly is. No matter what’s been declared, I found you. It was me who gave the order to cut you with blood and you are one of my hunters. I expect Byrgenwerth has taught you to obey an order by now.” She said, “So now I task you with finding all of my scattered Valkyries and gathering them together, right here. Wait for me until I return, it seems like sign-ups might take awhile.” 

I nodded and she turned Swift away, galloping off towards the arena. I was not about to let her down. I took off in the opposite direction, slipping back into my old ways and thinking about each of my targets as logically as possible. This wasn’t the first time I’d had to find someone in a vast city and I’d never lost at hide and seek on my own turf before. Sure I hadn’t been to Hemwick Charnel Lane, but it hardly mattered. Once you got your bearings everything was much similar. It didn’t take me long to get mine.Seconds after becoming surefooted I ran into Salem. 

She was looking through a merchant’s tray of crystals that were supposed to be able to enhance one’s divination skills. They weren’t even real crystal, just painted rocks, and they weren’t fooling Salem. She was tearing into the seller, all about scams and disrespect for the art of fortune telling. It was so entertaining to watch the guy scramble I was sad I had to step in and stop her, but I gathered 

Frigga wanted everyone found as fast as possible. I didn’t even waste time in greeting just gave her the situation and off we went. 

Having Salem for a search partner was probably some form of cheating. She just had a decent sense of where someone was going to be, and I followed her headings. Sage, to neither of our surprise was the first on our list to be located. He had been saved by a group of rowdy city hunters that seemed to constantly be getting in brawls with each other. They were from a port city, not wholly unlike my own and it was clear many of them were sons of sailors. Sage wasn’t doing to bad himself, he was arm wrestling with the lot of them, and holding his own quite well. His hand was smashed to the table when he caught sight of his sister. They embraced for several moments before I informed Sage of my task and we carried on. The port city hunters didn’t seem to mind us, they only yelled insults when none of us would take their arm wrestling challenge. 

We carried on until we found Anwen who was helping her woodland gang unload a cart full of ales and wines they’d plundered. She was eager to see Frigga again, but gave us the sad news that the nuns Mouse had gone with weren’t going to be attending the tournament. They saw it as some kind of sinful indulgence and refused to participate. The hunters she had been taken in by were understanding, and almost silent just like her. They got up to their bits of thievery and deviance which she didn’t particularly appreciate. She told us the city they existed nearby was incredibly rich but the surrounding peasants incredibly poor. Her ragtag group was trying to become a balance and while she longed to return to the Valkyeries at least she felt like her time in limbo was being used for something constructive. 

We went on to find Imogen again and were surprised to see that Cato was with her. He had been sprung for the tournament and he was taking full advantage of his freedom. He was walking now, dressed in ill-fitting clothing with no teeth that clearly weren’t his. He leaned heavily on a wooden cane like an old man. He was downing an unholy amount of beer to an overwhelmingly positive crowd. Anwen had to sling him over her shoulder once again to get him away from the tap. Imogen had been drinking with her companions but when she heard that Frigga wanted us she snapped to attention and bade them goodbye. 

A united clan once more, we headed towards the arena. Anwen insisted we go look for Templeton but I explained the situation with Minimus and she had to relent. “I’ll kill the bastard.” Cato snarled from over her shoulder, “Just you watch I’m gonna rip his eyeballs out and wear um around my neck. He’ll be stuck lookin’ between my legs for all eternity.” 

“I don’t think that’s how eyeballs work Cay.” Salem laughed. 

We all joined in and he was intoxicated enough to not comprehend that the joke was on him, Perhaps Cato laughed loudest of all. Joyous and full of energy we spilled out onto the grass where Frigga and I had spoken. We’d found each other faster then I thought,Frigga hadn’t finished up in the arena yet. We passed a bottle between us and shared leftover rations. 

“So has anyone seen Barristan around?” Sage asked, “He hasn’t left England. I’ve been checking all of the ships records I can get my hands on and unless he had a private boat that none of us knew about he hasn’t left.” “

No word of him in the woods.” Anwen added. 

“Well he’s not at Byrgenwerth either.” I said, “He’s clever. If I had to make a guess he’s probably still in Yharnam. The Altered Boys haven’t learned all of the streets and stuff as of yet. Barristan could be hiding right under our noses and we’d never know.” 

“Well he better show up to this damn tournament so I can kick his ass.” Cato said. 

“Oh yeah, what are you gonna do smack him with your cane, old man?” Imogen giggled. 

Cato hiccupped and cocked his head to the side but when the realization of what she’d said hit him he struggled to his feet and tried to slap her upside the head with his cane. He was too shaky on his feet to get more then a few steps with the cane raised above his head like a weapon and he was back on the grass in seconds. We had to help him get sat up again, he was laughing at himself too hard to be effective. 

The sun was sinking in the sky by the time Frigga exited the arena and came to join us. She had removed her helm and was walking Swift along behind her. The angular cut of her hair seemed appropriately sharp in tandem with her armor. I watched my fellow hunters take a knee, right hand extended outwards in what was perhaps the most respectful of hunters’ greetings. I copied them and you could almost feel the sense of pride well up in our patron’s chest. She returned the greeting, exactly the same, showing me far more respect then I was due and we all rose together. 

There wasn’t an opportunity for greeting after that. The mob of them rushed her and embraced their fearless leader. Cato and I hung back finishing off the bottle as the wave of affection washed over our champion. Once everyone was satisfied that their adoration had been accounted for we returned to our patch of grass. Swift began to nibble at the longer stalks, pleased to be in on the picnic. 

“So which of you are competeing?” Frigga asked once we’d settled down. 

“None of us were planning too, we didn’t want to oppose you.” Anwen said, “We’re all going to be behind you one hundred percent.” 

She smiled softly and nodded her thanks towards the large hunter. “I’ll expect to see you in the stands.” 

“And we expect you in the motherfrickin’ winners circle with all the trophies n’ shit.” Cato shouted. “Make sure you rub Minimus’ face in the dirt real nice n’ good for us.” 

It carried on like this for some time, just jokes and light conversation. We all stopped off suddenly when Fwahe approached. She was wearing a new cloak that we all recognized as being made out of the fur of Sister Veera. That must’ve been what she wanted the carcass for. At a nod from Frigga we rose and paid our respects to the lone hunter. She didn’t return our bows, it didn’t seem to be her style. Frigga actually came forward and embraced her whispering something in the strange hunter’s ear. When Frigga stepped back Fwahe came forward.She passed a string of Veera’s teeth to Cato. 

“Wear some clothes won’t you?” She asked. 

He grinned, slipping, with some difficulty the necklace over his head. He looked more like himself now that he had a few spikes back. He tried to formulate a good response but he ended up laughing at his own joke before it ever escaped his lips. 

“Have you seen Barristan at all?” Sage asked Fwahe, inviting her into our conversations. 

“Traitor’s disappeared.” She replied, “But Tom thinks he’ll be back. Rat’s don’t go too far from the gutter, just got to make sure you’re ready to snap a neck when they do show up.” 

“What about the Altered Boys?” Cato asked. “Have you seen them anywhere?” 

She shook her head, “No haven’t seen the little naked mole rats anywhere. Don’t think they’re coming.” 

His face fell and he fiddled with the string of teeth avoiding everyone’s eyes. He didn’t want to seem upset but it was clear he had hoped to see Rook here. It wasn’t as though the two of them could’ve held a decent conversation. Rook had half a brain and Cato had drowned most of his in a sea of various alcohols. It might have been better this way, they needed time to mourn Fla’rue and here there was music and celebration. It would’ve just added insult to their injuries. In all of the skirmishes we’d been through they always ended up loosing the most. Their track record was worse then Frigga’s. 

Cato offered her the empty bottle he was still taking sips from. Fwahe shook her head and pulled her knees in close to her chest. Her cloak spread out around her and at a quick glance you’d think she was some kind of rare creature. 

We sat there eating, preserving the calm before the storm. None of us wanted to talk about the uncertain days that lay ahead. We took this moment like a cherished heirloom, placing it in a glass box so we could glance back towards it during hard times and remember that there are things in this world worth striving for. We watched day turn to sunset and then become darkness. The twins built a small fire and we sat around it. 

There was a ring of torches surrounding the entire tournament ground, when lit they enclosed everyone in a circle of fire and protection. Random hunters were assigned to patrol the perimeter, with such a wealth to choose from it was unlikely any of us would be called to serve. We all knew that staying together like this wasn’t smart, we were supposed to have returned to our clans or our assigned tents long ago. Still, our collective wasn’t the only one out past the loosely enforced curfew. It had been awhile since the night felt safe for any of us and we were hypnotized by the magic of it. When we sat together the cold wind lost it’s bite. The stars overhead were a mosaic, laid out for us by the great Kosm himself, telling the stories of countless battles in a laungague of universes only the Old Gods knew how to read. Soon the stars we saw would be replaced with ones telling of our own victories, so many desperate souls in one place, they had to be watching. I wanted Frigga to shine brightest of them all. 

Cato had fallen asleep and was snoring loudly in the grass. Frigga began to shift herself out of a seated position, about to take responsibility and tell us all to go to bed. Before she had the chance, Fwahe’s head shot up and she darted across the grass. 

“What’s going on?” I shouted after her. 

There was a voice in the distance and the sound of scuffling.“Hey! Stop it let me go!” 

“Spy.” Fwahe informed, returning with a protesting Templeton. She was pinching the scholar’s ear and pulling her along. 

“Wasn’t spying!” Templeton protested, “Ouch c’mon Fwahe that hurts!” 

“Let her go.” Frigga said calmly. 

Fwahe relaxed her hold and Templeton rubbed her tender ear. “I was trying to slip away from Minimus, but now my cover’s blown.” She informed. 

“Yes back to that,” Frigga said picking up where their last conversation had ended, “What has Minimus been doing to you Temple?” 

She shook her head, “It’s nothing, honestly.” 

“No it isn’t.” Anwen said. 

“Anwen! Oh my gosh everybody’s here I am so sorry I didn’t notice. I missed you all so much!” Templeton said in surprise. The others smiled and waved but didn’t greet her, they held back and waited for Frigga to finish perusing her issue before they spoke. 

“Come on Temp, what’s been going on?” Frigga prompted. 

The nervous scholar took off her glasses and polished them with the over large sleeve of her robe. “I’ve been doing research with Abbot Minimus’ scholars. We’re stationed in Mensis. Kos, I hate it there Frigga, they don’t have any denizens out there so they don’t keep the grounds clear. You can’t go outside because there’s beasts everywhere and their not like Yharnam beasts at all. Their much bigger and stronger so you have to stay inside.” 

“He doesn’t keep his grounds clear?” Sage asked. 

Templeton nodded, “It’s not safe inside either, there’s all kinds of things trapped in cages but I don’t trust that the cages will hold. I know I’m just being paranoid but I think their all going to get out and there much too strong for me. His scholars are doing really strange stuff to them too, I’ve never seen anything like it before but-“ 

“It’s not your research I want to know about.” Frigga interrupted. It was probably better she did or we might’ve been there the whole night and still not know if the tiny scholar was being treated the right way, “I want to know where all those bruises came from.” 

“Just fighting things.” Templeton said. It was an obvious lie. 

“Come on Temple you know better than to lie to me.” Frigga pleaded. 

“I just can’t ok!” Templeton squeaked, “It’ll get worse if I say anything, I just wanted to see you guys again. I don’t want to talk about it! 

Frigga took both of Templeton’s hands and held them in her own, looking the frightened hunter directly in the eyes. Templeton was crying and the tears gleamed beneath the lenses of her glasses in the firelight. “I wanted to see you too, but more then that I want to make sure that you are safe. I want to protect you.” 

“I don’t need protection.” Templeton whimpered, “You don’t think that I can take care of myself but I’m fine I swear. I’m doing some really important investigations and you really need to hear about what’s happening with Abbot Minimus’ scholars.” 

“There’s going to be plenty of time for that later, right now there’s only one scholar I care about ok? That’s you Templeon. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can tell me all about your research ok?” 

“I-…I…” Templeton stammered, “I…I guess sometimes..sometimes I make him mad. He…he doesn’t like me…to wander or go..go uh pull books from his libraries. I’m not supposed to roam, and..he…just…reinforces that…you could say. He…he thinks I’m going to run away..like…like at Byrgenwerth. I…I keep getting distracted though, it’s my fault.” 

She was shaking all over again. Frigga let go of her hands and pulled Templeton down into her lap, keeping her arms protectively curled around the shivering hunter. “It’s not your fault.” She said softly. 

“One…one time I wandered out, I just wanted to explore..the place is so strange. It was daylight and I t-thought I’d be safe b-but I wasn’t. There was this big g-giant, bigger then our Brick Trolls, Frigga, much much bigger. It…it was going to smash me…but then A-abbot Minimus was there. He st-stopped it. He saved me. He was really angry though, that I went outside I mean. He-he just wanted to make sure I d-didn’t do it again.” 

“So he did hit you?” Frigga asked, the anger in her voice growing. 

“He was trying to protect me.” Templeton whimpered. 

“Like fuck he was.” I added. “That’s not protection that’s prison.” 

The others nodded their agreement but I doubted Templeton could see it. She was all curled up in Frigga’s arms. 

“He ma-made sure I didn’t go out again..and I had..I had to stop a lot of work. He wanted to ma-make sure I didn’t go out again…so he had me watched all the time. I was usually in the same room as him, so then…I…I..I don’t know what I did exactly. He’d get mad again…I know I must’ve done something…and I was there so, he reminded me not to go out. It hurt but at least the giant thing didn’t kill me. He was only looking out for me Frigga honestly I swear.” 

“We have two very different definitions of what looking out for someone means and mine doesn’t include beating up scholars.” Frigga growled through gritted teeth. 

We didn’t say anything, the only sound was the occasional sniffle from Templeton as she tried to regain her composure. Fwahe’s head snapped up once more and this time she warned us aloud, “Spies.” 

We all heard footsteps coming closer a few seconds later. Fwahe fixed Frigga with a crazy-eyed stare and then bolted. I knew these must be Minimus’ people, come to collect their runaway and it was best to not become caught up in these kinds of messes. That was if one could avoid it, and we Valkyries had loyalty if nothing else. We sat there pretending like we didn’t notice them. 

“I believe you have something that belongs to our Abbot.” The gruff voice of one of Minimus’ policeman spoke from the shadows. I could only see his outline, the light of our fire didn’t extend far enough for a clearer distinction. 

“She doesn’t belong to anyone.” Anwen growled. 

“He paid for her life didn’t he?” The guard revealed himself now. He was enormous, so tall and wide that he made Anwen seemed small. Anwen’s hand rested on the handle of her kirkhammer. 

“Lady Frigga will prove her innocence, and we will be restored our status as a clan.” Anwen said, cool and calm. 

“Your ragtag little band doesn’t even have a safehouse anymore!” The guard laughed his voice booming and deep, echoing in our ears. Some equally large and imposing back up of his arrived, not hesistant to step into the light and reveal themselves to us. 

Templeton untangled herself from Frigga’s arms and stepped towards them. “It’s alright.” She said to us, “I’ll go.” 

Sage pulled out his twin blades, “Sit your butt back down, Temp. You’re not going anywhere.” 

His sister removed her blades as well and stood at the ready. Minimus’ guard wasn’t daunted in the slightest. “We don’t want any trouble from you and your butter knives. It’s easier for us all if you don’t put up a fight. Then again they do say that practice makes perfect.” 

“It’s really ok.” Templeton said. She bowed to us, ignoring our protests and let herself be led away by Minimus’ private police. 

“You better kill him.” I said to Frigga. “If you come up against him in the tournament there had better be blood.” 

“I guarantee you there will be.” Frigga said. Her eyes burned, reflecting the firelight so intensely it seemed like there was a demon caught inside of each iris. She stood and turned on her heel, “Valkyries dismissed!” 

We all returned to our proper places and assigned clansmen after that. The Byrgenwerth garrison had put up tents and posted their own guard. The lady on duty directed me to my own tent, which had been assembled for me, thank Kos. I climbed inside and stared up at the canvas ceiling. I knew that beyond it were the stars, the old god’s tapestry but they were impossible to see from my current position. There was no way of knowing how things were going to go tomorrow. My future couldn’t speak to my past, but I wished that I had some sort of senses for the events that were to unfold. I should’ve asked Salem to do a reading. If I searched really hard I might have been able to find Sovite, who had perhaps had a vision and would be able to offer some much welcomed advice. 

I didn’t though, all I had was an empty tent and a wealth of useless rage. I drifted off, dreaming of the place that Templeton had mentioned, Mensis. In it I was as small as a mouse, the carpet was like a forest and I had to skirt around each thread as though it were a tree trunk. I was racing my way through the carpet as quick and as blind as could be. I felt the pulsating earthquake of giant footsteps coming up behind me, tearing across the ground a hundred times faster than I could ever hope to go. When I finally cleared the carpet forest, just seconds before being crushed by the giant boot I realized I had been rushing towards an enormous fire place. 

Tendrils of golden orange fire shot impossibly high, a wall of flame that was inpenetrable and deadly. I turned back and looked over my shoulder, up to the enormous black and red robed man who’d been pursing me. As the pitch-black sole of his boot slowly came down at me, my eyes traveled up the ocean of robes he wore, each fold a hundred-foot high wave until I came to the sinister, grinning larger than life face of Abbot Minimus. 

My own eyes, my real eyes snapped open and I woke up in a cold sweat, heart pounding out of my chest. Tamsin had pulled back the tent flap and was staring at me baffled. 

“Are you done screaming yet? Kos almighty you’ve woken half the camp.” She scoffed. 

“Bad dream.” I mumbled by way of explanation. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, “Sorry.” 

“Must’ve been some dream.” She replied, “It was about time we got up anyway, gotta get to the arena early for good seating. You be sure to watch me out there.” 

“Will do.” I mumbled drowsily. 

She lowered the flap of the tent and I rolled over, trying for five more minutes. Every time I closed my eyes I just saw the wall of flames and heard Minimus’ sinister laughter. Sleep was not happening. I pulled on my shoes, adjusted myself as best I could and headed for the arena. I swiped an apple from a distracted vendor and crunched it down as I scanned the crowd keeping a look out for familiar faces. 

The tournament was arranged in a bracket elimination style, and there were multiple events for competing in. A joust was usually the centerpiece of the games but horses were far too precious a commodity for it to be viable at this time. It was really a shame though; it had always been one of my favorites. You had your archery, knife throwing, things of that nature but the real competition was in the one-on-ones. Usually this part of the competition would be limited to weapon types, with swordsmen fighting other swordsmen but the trick weapons hunters favored were already so diverse that they set everything up against everything. The bracket had been posted, and everyone could see who their favorites were fighting against, that was at least every literate person. I preferred tournaments where the use of a coat of arms, or symbol was employed but there were just two many hunters for a bracket board that big. Instead everyone’s names were burnt onto pieces of wood that could be repositioned as they advanced through the competition. I was curious as to whether she’d be labeled Lady Frigga or Miss Hemlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	15. Chapter the Fifteenth: In Which the Battles Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also known as the chapter in which I want to die because I'm writing way too many fight scenes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think.

I thought I had arrived at the arena pretty early but the lines were already fairly long. I sighed, tossing the remaining apple core over my shoulder and took my place in the que. 

“Sterling?” 

I turned around to see the speckled visage of Piebald standing behind me. His hazel eyes sparkled with surprise and I grinned, “Fwahe said you guys weren’t coming?” 

“Larkspur didn’t want us too…he’s nervous about competing. He hasn’t taken those gloves off and we all know what it means. Showing up here and having him fight like that, it just wouldn’t go over well but Beetle really wanted to fight. They argued about it awhile, but you know we don’t really have a leader. We didn’t want it to be like it was at the church and Larkspur could see that. He said only two of us could go. Beetle was an obvious choice because well I mean he campaigned the hardest, the rest of us just drew straws. I got lucky.” 

“I’m really glad it ended up being you.” I said. I mean it too, we hadn’t really talked to much but there’s no way we would’ve gotten out of the blaze without him. The small moments of shared triumph and the way he’d stuck loyally by my side despite his terror were the kinds of things that bred instant friendships. 

He blushed. “Me too.” 

Waiting in line went by much faster now that I had someone to pass the time with. The Altered Boys seemed to have taken to Iosefka’s Clinic rather well. Rook got better every day and he’d started to ask after Cato. His memories were coming back to him. They’d also cleared out the rooms and had found some stashes of medicine and blood that were still viable so no one had been blood starved. They were working on clearing Yharnam once more and earning the denizen’s respect. 

Piebald was also interested in hearing about my time at Byrgenwerth and listened with rapt attention to my story about Yar’gul and the carriage. He said he had been brought through Yar’gul when they were taking him to the church and he though most of the creatures were just especially nightmarish because he’d been a young child. He was both horrified and reassured to discover that it hadn’t been childish hyperbole. 

We got into the arena halfway through the opening ceremonies. They had so many battles to get through that they couldn’t afford to wait until the seats were full. It wasn’t as though people weren’t going to show. The crowd extended high up into the stand, but I noticed that the Lord’s Box, which I had expected to be filled with hunters of hunters or at the very least the Abbot and his policeman, was all but empty. There must’ve been an insane amount of them competing today. Every seat appeared to be filled but at least we had made it into the arena, there were thousands waiting outside. Piebald and I were the lucky ones. 

It was still hard to identify people in the opening ceremonies; the dirt oval was packed to the gills with hunters. I scanned the scene as Piebald and I searched for seats. They stood shoulder to shoulder like sardines packed into a can. The only one I could spot with certainty was Fwahe, her cloak stood out amongst the others. There were several huntresses that were wearing white robes; similar to those Veera had worn. These huntresses had all ended up near Fwahe and they gave her as much room as they could afford, leaving a comfortable amount of standing room for the strange loner in the middle of their pack. Fwahe was undaunted by this, instead of fixing her glare on those around her, she stared into the crowd as though they were going to be the ones fighting her. 

The Altered Boy also had the distinct advantage of his skin condition. I’m sure that having people go out of their way to avoid you was a real nuisance, day to day but for navigating a crowd it was spectacular. I don’t know if they thought he had the plague or what, but people just stood to the side and let us pass. We even ended up with front row seats because Piebald shot a glare at a group of younger church hunters. They startled and scattered off towards the top of the arena and we had a whole bench to ourselves. 

There must’ve been some coins stashed away in the old clinic because Piebald wasn’t shy about snacks. Vendors roamed the stairs carrying trays full of roasted meats, candied apples and cold drinks. The spotted hunter admitted that he didn’t drink but bought me a lager and had a lemonade himself. By the time we were settled into our seats, balancing skewers of roast fish on our laps the closing ceremonies had ended. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to find Frigga. 

The ring below was emptied of competing hunters and the tournament’s herald rode forward on a small dust-colored pony. The herald was grinning wide; he had fluffy chocolate hair and wore a white tunic with the hunter’s sigil emblazoned on it in black. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Hunters and Huntress it is my honor as herald of the Hunter’s Tournament to welcome you to today’s one-on-one competition! As you just saw everyone has come prepared to demonstrate their skills and put their talents on display for your entertainment. Let’s hear it for our competitors!” 

It was a classic and obvious technique for getting a crowd excited but damn if it didn’t work. Everyone let out a roar shouting their approval as loud as they could. We sounded like a clap of thunder. 

The herald grinned wide, “Excellent! As for out first competitor he is known in the hunting community for his level head and leadership skills. He travels through Yar’gul daily and has yet to be late for a meeting. Ladies and Gentlemen I give you the steadfast, the sensible, the unshakable, Lord Gaines of Byrgenwerth!” 

The crowd let out another round of cheers. From the left end of the arena, Gaines emerged. He looked exactly the same as he always did, dressed in standard-issue Byrgenwerth clothes and hunters’ hat. He took the saw cleaver off his back, and raised it over his head. 

The herald let everyone have their fun before he took to barking again, “I see Lord Gaines is not unknown in these parts, unlike his opponent. She is certainly unknown to you but she and the Byrgenwerth Brawler go way back, in fact she’s one of his own. Famous for her impeccable aim and fiery temper she’s become quite the marksmen, but you my friends are not here for games of guns. Will her swordsmanship be able to master her master’s? Ladies and Gentleman I give you, Lord Gaines’ challenger,the Huntress Tamsin!” 

If there was any less cheering for Tamsin then for Gaines it was impossible to distinguish, the roar of denizens and hunters alike was just as loud as ever. It pounded in my ears. Tamsin stepped out from the right side of the arena and she looked unimpressed. She too was dressed in the typical Byrgenwerth fashion but had left both her hood and hat behind. You could see the intense concentration in her eyes even from so great a distance. Instead of hefting her weapon, the same saw cleaver as Gaines, she spat a gob of spit onto the sand and got into a fighting stance, cleaver fully extended. 

The herald back stepped his horse into a recess in the wall where he could easily watch the action out of harms’ way. 

“Let the games begin!” the herald shouted. 

Tamsin and Gaines ran at each other, cleavers clashing when they met sending sparks flying onto the sand. The teeth of their cleavers locked together and they struggled to overpower one another. Gaines had size and strength on his side but Tamsin had a firm stance and a low center of gravity. She was also a knot of pure rage and she wouldn’t come undone so easily. 

It was Gaines who was first to break off, giving his cleaver a deft twist before hopping backwards, dislodging the blade from his opponent’s. Tamsin seemed like she couldn’t care less if her leader had regained his footing or not, she lunged towards him attacking in a blur of short slashes. The leader of Byrgenwerth was on the retreat but he expertly sidestepped each attack, occasionally knocking aside Tamsin’s blade with his own. 

Tamsin roared her frustration when none of her hits got through. She had all but backed Gaines into the arena wall and he was still dancing past her every attack, moving faster then she could swing her cleaver. She was sure he had run out of maneuvering room when his back hit the wall, she rooted herself into her stance and pulled her arms back for an enormous overhead swing. 

Gaines seized his moment, ducking into the space her raised arms had created. Her cleaver’s teeth sank into the wooden wall instead of her opponent. She gave a snarl of frustration. 

Gaines could’ve easily given her a good blow or two while her back was turned but he relaxed his stance and waited for her to pry her cleaver out of the wall. Once her weapon was free she spun around to face her attacker. Gaines dipped his head and resumed his fighting stance now that they were on even ground again. 

“He fights rather honorably.” Piebald commented while gnawing on one of his skewers of fish. 

Tamsin is one of his own.” I replied, “If she’d been one of those face-slugs we saw he wouldn’t have hesitated.” 

Back on the field the two Byrgenwerth hunters were circling each other. Tamsin would advance a step and Gaines would take a step back, then they’d do the reverse. It was almost like a strangely choreographed dance from a far off land, if you were willing to ignore the weapons. They were both testing each other’s ranges and reaction times. 

Neither seemed to want to take the first shot, they just continued to circle. There wasn’t anything in the arena to dodge behind or around, once they came together there wasn’t a place to find relief. This might provide some advantages to church and city hunters who were used to wide streets, bridges and plazas to fight in. Woodland hunters who often used the forest terrain to their advantage might have trouble on such an open battleground. Both Tamsin and Gaines were used to open territory. All of their training had taken place in the open fields of Byrgenwerth. 

If you blinked you might have missed them come together again. They judged each other well and leapt forward in the same moment, blades clashing. Tamsin was first to jump back this time, swinging her blade around as she did so and swiping at Gaines’ feet. He seemed to have seen the move coming and rolled forward before her blade could touch him coming up behind her. Gaines tapped Tamsin on the small of her back, unbalancing her and sending her face-first into the sand. 

The crowd roared, as a cloud of dirt puffed up around the felled huntress. She spat into the sand again before picking herself back up. Gaines was waiting for her to return to her feet once more. He seemed to prefer staying offensive and countering moves as opposed to advancing his own attacks and strategies. It was clever; he didn’t want to reveal what he could truly do because there were bound to be other competitors studying the match. He was saving his energy, confident that he could defeat Tamsin. I assumed the two had fought each other a few times before and in Gaines’ mind she wasn’t a true threat. He didn’t expect to be eliminated by her. 

Tamsin must’ve found this incredibly frustrating. Her leader’s strategy wasn’t hard to comprehend and she was enraged to be reduced to his warm up. Raw anger wasn’t serving her very well on the battlefield, the more she ran at Gaines the less composed she was. Time and time again she was knocked to the ground. Her hair and clothing were covered in sand. The firm grip and steady stance she had entered the battlefield with were beginning to weaken. Gaines was tiring her out. 

This time experience won out over youth. Tamsin charged for Gaines once more, he side stepped, keeping the blade of his cleaver low. He swept Tamsin’s legs out from under her, using the side without teeth to prevent an injury. Instead of waiting for Tamsin to regain her footing Gaines held the teeth of his blade against the back of her neck. 

“That’s enough.” He said. 

Tamsin spat onto the ground in response but made no attempt to struggle free. She stayed down for the customary ten second and then the crowd erupted into cheers. 

“Lord Gaines is the victor!” The herald shouted riding forward. 

Celebration of victories usually carried on for quite some time but being as there were more battles to be had, Gaines and Tamsin quickly exited the arena so that the next match could begin. As the sun climbed higher and higher into the sky we watched the battles play out below us. Some of the hunters got things over with quickly. An enormous lone woodland hunter called Rochambeau knocked his opponent unconscious after two blows of his mace. The mace, a trick weapon that Piebald informed me was called a tonitrus, could be charged with electricity if needed. Rochambeau certainly hadn’t had to get any special advantages and the crowd loved him all the more for it. 

City hunters appeared to be the ones most used to weapon enhancement. They were willing to add fire, electricity or even toss out some throwing knives to get themselves the upper hand. A skirmish between church hunters could last forever each outsmarting the other brilliantly. It seemed that the only way one could defeat the other was by luck or exhaustion. Sometimes one of the opponents would trip, sometimes one of them would just fall over, exhausted. It was a little bit like magnets, if you put two different hunters in the ring together one would cancel the other out before too long. If they were of the same variety it seemed to be a stalemate. When different weapons and techniques clashed there was usually a decisive victory, pit hunters from the same area, sect or gang against each other and the match could go on for hours. 

Most tournaments would have breaks where a poet or bard would come out and do a bit so that those in the crowd could relieve themselves or have some time to breathe between the tense battles. The Hunter’s Tournament skipped this formality altogether. You had to miss a match every now and again if you needed a break. Piebald had a decent eye for seeing when two opponents matched each other evenly and if the battle started to drag on one of us would slip away while the other held down our seats. Every time I got up I’d scan the arena hoping to find one of the Valkyries but in the churning mass of people it was impossible. 

I missed the beginning of Beetle’s fight but when I returned to my seat I saw that it wasn’t going to be an easy one for him to win. Beetle hadn’t gotten himself any additional armor. He’d forsaken his vest as well opting to have his entire body painted up like a skeleton in addition to the signature inverted cross. He looked like a reanimated corpse. 

All the war paint in the world wasn’t going to change the fact that his opponent was a tough one. She wore black church robes, which should have slowed her down but didn’t. She bobbed and weaved around the arena darting in and out and swiping the Altered Boy with her twin blades of mercy. He was bleeding in several places. If the huntress was to back Beetle into a corner with those blades he was as good as finished. 

The only competing Altered Boy wasn’t going to be done away with so easily. He dug the pole of his spear into the ground, the sand and dirt giving him a steady purchase to vault back and forth with. He was trying to wear her down. The exhaustion of both was readily apparent. The heat of the day burnt their backs and Beetle’s war paint started to fade or go blurry as sweat ran down his body. The heat of the huntress’ robes had to be getting to her as well. 

The huntress knew she would have to shake things up if she were to stay in this. 

“Come on Beetle, finish her!” Piebald shouted. 

The huntress made her move, took a risk and hurled one of her twin blades at Beetle. If she didn’t make contact she’d be one weapon and an entire set of attacks down. She was calculating and her aim impeccable, the knife stuck it’s point in Beetle’s hand. Yelping he dropped his spear. Before he had a chance to pull himself back together the huntress had lunged towards him and was holding her remaining blade at his throat. 

Using his superior size Beetle tried to shove her away but she dug her feet in and pressed the blade to his skin. She meant to kill him if she had too. 

“Shit.” Piebald growled. “Stupid church hunters.” 

I gave him a pat on the back, “He did his best.” 

Piebald nodded and ignored the herald as he rode out to announce the champion. The Altered Boy rose from his seat, “I’m going to go find Beetle. We’ll be back. He’s going to get all steamed up about this if someone doesn’t talk him down.” 

I nodded and watched my companion disappear into the sea of spectators. It wasn’t until the sun had passed it’s apex that the brawl I’d been waiting for began. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen please allow me to present one of the most interesting hunters we have fighting here with us today. She fights not for honor, not for glory, not for ribbons and rewards. The hunter you are about to see fights for her very life. Condemned to death by our benevolent Abbot Minimus she fought tooth and nail for the chance at a trial by combat. They had to keep her locked in a mad house; worried she might turn on us all. Is she guilty, is she innocent? We shall leave it up to the gods, both old and new. They shall decide her fate today, tomorrow and for the rest of this tournament. Ladies and Gentlemen please lend your voices to the fallen champion, Miss Frigga Hemlock!” 

I could’ve punched the herald for that kind of an introduction. That wasn’t at all how the world should’ve seen Frigga. He mentioned nothing of her ability to lead, made no note of her fearlessness. He made her sound more like a rabid caged dog then a proper huntress. Nevertheless Frigga took the field with grace and elegance, late sun light reflecting in the facets of her armor. She had unclipped the gossamer cape, on the battlefield it wouldn’t do any good. 

The rules of these one-on-ones didn’t prohibit the use of horses but all the same she’d opted to come out and fight on foot. The entire hunting community wanted her eradicated, yet she refused an unfair advantage. Perhaps it was because she had an easy opponent and like Gaines, had no need to fear their abilities. This could be one of those easy decisive matches, settled in a matter of seconds. 

But it wasn’t. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen allow me to present Miss Hemlock’s foil. He is a hunter so noble, so unshakeable in his loyalty and commitment to the hunt that his participation in the assault on Cainhurst is all but assured. He fought alongside the strongest church hunters known to man or beast and sent countless Vilebloods to their graves. Unlike his competitor this hunter has never come before the council, never let a man die on his watch, and never caused a stir at communion. Ladies and Gentleman I give you the righteous, the noble, servant of the good lord Kos himself, Lord Alfred of the Logarius Legion!” The herald barked. 

Alfred strode onto the field, his thick church hunters robes were long gone, he wore plate armor with a triangular symbol embossed on the chest plate. His bracers had large enamel crosses inlaid in to them . The church hunter wore no helmet, his cascade of blonde curls bouncing along as he confidently entered the ring. He also wore light leather boots in contrast to Frigga’s heavy leg armour. He carried a kirkhammer with him. 

Alfred’s loyalties laid with Minimus and we had reason to suspect that he was the one who’d poisoned the Altered Boys and caused them to turn. If he was willing to do that he was bound to give his all in the ring. From my distance I had no way of knowing what other kinds of tricks he might have up his sleeve. He could be using poison. Maybe he’d acquired some of the arcane papers to enhance his kirkhammer. I didn’t hear the crackle of flame or the sparking of electricity but it could be hard to tell over the roar of the crowd. 

Alfred set his hammer down, brought his hands together and bent over, giving Frigga the traditional church hunter’s bow. Frigga waited for a second and looked him over. She then removed her helm and tossed it to the ground, denying herself an advantage. She returned his bow, then removed her threaded cane from its place at her hip. Alfred picked up his hammer, and the battle began. 

They immediately began to circle each other; both weapons had an incredible reach. Frigga was keeping her cane shrunk down, and holding it in one hand like a sword. Alfred had both of his hands on the handle of his hammer. As they continued to orbit each other the distance between them diminished. Their circle was becoming smaller and smaller, each spiraling in on the other, still unsure of their opponent’s reach. 

It was Alfred who made the first move. He took a jump forward and slammed his hammer right where Frigga’s foot had been. She dodged before his hammer had a chance to make its purchase, tucking herself into a roll and coming up behind Alfred. The church hunter jumped to the side, narrowly evading a stab from behind from Frigga. 

The crowd cheered as Alfred and Frigga began to circle each other again, ready for another tilt. I was dimly aware of Beetle and Piebald’s return. They sat down next to me but didn’t say anything, they knew this fight was important. 

Alfred again made the first move ramming his hammer towards Frigga. She sidestepped and rolled behind him landing a jab to his side as she went. It bounced uselessly off chain mail and plate armor but it was still the first strike. The crowd roared, as much in favor of a redemption story as a triumph from the church. Alfred didn’t let the jab shake him in the slightest, he carried on with his momentum, swinging the hammer towards Frigga, turning himself around with it. She jumped back, narrowly missing the devastating swing. They both retreated a few paces before resuming their spiraling. The circling hardly lasted. Frigga gave her cane a swift jerk and the fine chained snaked out, extending her reach and closing the distance between opponents. The spectators shouted, stomping their feet and demanding blood. 

With her weapon now in its preferred form Frigga danced around Alfred, jumping in and out of range and swinging at him with quick, rapid slashes. The spikes on her chain did little to damage his armor and anything that came towards his face he deflected with either the hammer or one of his bracers. Still, she had him on the run. 

Alfred dug his feet in, rooting himself and waiting for an opportunity. Frigga jumped in close once again, before ducking into a roll, trying to come up behind the church hunter. Alfred turned along with her and before she had fully got to her feet he slammed the mighty hammer into her side. 

Frigga staggered backwards a few steps. She was rattled by the powerful blow but her armor held, nothing seemed dented or broken. We couldn’t see any blood. Before Alfred could get another hit in she lunged inside his strike, snaking the chain back up into her blade as she went. She was mere inches from him and landed a series of jabs to his arms, shoulder and chest. Once he recovered from the sudden barrage, Alfred was able to use the head of his hammer to brace against Frigga’s cane and shove her backward. When the pair came apart again we could see a few spots where Frigga had drawn blood. Alfred looked down at himself and shrugged, continuing to circle. 

Frigga let the chain loose again, trying to cut inside and get another opportunity. Alfred swung his hammer around in great circles, knocking the chain away. He kept the hammer spinning, shielding himself. Every time the chain was deflected it would land on the dirt, and rest there like a dead snake for a moment before a flick of Frigga’s wrist brought it back to life, and it came slashing towards Alfred once more. 

Patience was a virtue that both opponents seemed to have in excess. They circled each other more then they fought, observing and waiting. Timing was everything. Frigga was constantly switching her weapons form, analyzing the situation in mere milliseconds to determine what would be the most useful. Alfred didn’t shy away from the weight of his weapon and was yet to convert it down to sword-size. It was all the smarter he didn’t. They’d both had a classical church education with swordsmanship and neither would have much advantage in that battle. 

Alfred was an extremely clever fighter, cunning as a fox. He was waiting for an opening that I’d never seen coming. The next time that Frigga’s fine chain hit the sand he slammed his kirkhammer hard onto the metal. The trick weapon had been well-crafted but it was no match for the unadulterated strength of Alfred’s blow. Chain links broke and ricocheted through the arena. The church hunter had cut three fourths of the chain off of its base and rendered it all but useless. He had diminished Frigga’s range. 

She put her weapon back to its pointed cane formation as Alfred advanced his attack. Spurred on by his success he came at her more aggressively, gaining ground and pressing the Valkyrie’s champion back towards the arena wall. 

“Come on Frigga!” I shouted. It would be unheard in the din of the crowd but it felt as though I might explode if I didn’t say anything. My heart was pounding out of my chest and every muscle in my body was tense beyond belief. 

Before he had really pinned her against the wall Alfred’s weapon came down in a mighty overhead swing. Frigga caught it seconds before it smashed against her, holding the tiny length of chain taunt, one end in each hand. The hammer slammed into the metal, shattering the links but sparing Frigga’s defeat. I was beginning to suspect enchantment on the hammer’s part. It could’ve been Alfred’s strength and rage but if Minimus was going to put someone up to cheating Alfred was a prime candidate. She had only her cane left now, and she rolled to the side. Staying low, Frigga drove the point of her cane into Alfred’s foot. His light leather boots allowed for decent mobility but not much in the way of protection. 

The church hunter let out a yowl of pain, whirling around, and bringing the hammer with him. If Frigga had been able to yank the point of her cane out of her opponent’s foot a half second faster the hammer would’ve never made contact. She was still on the ground, about to push up from her roll and return to a standing position. Instead of making a clean get away the church hunter’s kirkhammer slammed into Frigga’s leg. We heard a loud snap and saw red blood coat the dirt arena grounds. The silver-haired huntress screamed in pain. 

Alfred whirled his hammer above his head ready to bring it down and finish the job. Frigga gritted her teeth and with a yowl, equal parts pain and fury pushed herself upwards with her good leg and undamaged arms. Her full weight slammed into Alfred, catching him off guard. He couldn’t control the momentum of his hammer and was toppled over, landing on his back in the dirt. Frigga had latched onto his armor and went down with him. 

When the dust cleared she had her blade at his throat. Alfred made several attempts to stand, but Frigga kept his shoulders pinned. He was unable to access his weapon. The herald counted off her victory and the crowd took a second to recover from the shock before a thunderclap of cheering broke out over the spectators. 

Callum , the medic who had seen too Fla’rue’s wounds rushed onto the field as soon as the match was called. He was followed by a group of tournament competitors, I noted Fwahe among them. Frigga was carried off the field, they took no time for celebration. 

“She’s done it!” Piebald shouted to me. 

I didn’t respond, I had lept off the bench and was shoving my way through the crowd. 

“Sterling, wait!” The Altered Boys called after me. 

I ignored them and charged out of the arena, desperate eyes scanning the scenes for signs of where Callum had taken her. There was nothing but people, thousands of them still waiting to get in. They looked at me like I was a mad man. I ignored them and began to sprint around the perimeter, figuring that I might have just come out the wrong door and I’d find Frigga being suitably cared for on the other end of the arena. A full circle of the grounds produced nothing; I was right back where I started with nothing but a sheen of sweat to show for it. 

I was going crazy, ready to grab random denizens and asked if they’d seen anything, when I spotted Anwen amongst the chaos. Her stature made her stand out in a crowd and I raced towards her. 

“Sterling what’s happened?” She asked when I came up in front of her panicked and breathless. 

“It’s….Frigga…didn’t…didn’t you see?” I panted. 

Anwen’s eyes filled with fear and she shook her head, “I haven’t been able to get into the arena yet.” 

I tried to pull all of my loose thoughts together and explain what had happened. Instead of a concise explanation everything came out in a jumble. Thank Kos; Anwen was able to interpret it. She knew where the medical tents were. We tore through the crowd; she went in front shouldering anyone who blocked us out of the way. My lungs were burning when we finally got to the medical tent. Its white canvas flaps were closed, none of us could see inside. 

Fwahe stood outside, the only one of the competitors who had remained. 

“How is she?” I asked once I was able to get a gulp of air in. 

“Won’t let me in.” Fwahe said, “I don’t know.” 

She seemed genuinely terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	16. Chapter the Sixteenth : In Which an Idea is Had

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tournament continues....also please note I hadn't used a boom hammer before writing this so my useage of it is a little strange. Just forgive that and move on, thanks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Always please let me know what you think!

Moments before Anwen and I went crazy, Callum pushed his way out of the tent. His grey apron was covered in blood. He rummaged in his pants pocket and pulled out a pipe and some tobacco. He stuffed the dried leaves into their well and stuck the stem of the pipe between his lips. Callum removed a match from a pouch on his belt, struck it against the sole of his shoe and held it to the leaves until they caught. 

It wasn’t until Anwen cleared our throat that the surly medic even noticed we were there. He looked up at us and blew a cloud of smoke through his nostrils. “You here for the cleric-slayer’s friend?” 

“Yes.” I said. Anwen nodded. 

Callum inhaled deeply, sucking up more smoke before he spoke, “Well she’s not dead. She’s fractured her left fibula.” 

We looked at him confused and he sighed, “It’s the smaller of the two bones in your leg. You should be thanking your lucky stars it wasn’t more serious. She’s got to keep her leg iced and elevated, I’ve put in a brace and it should re-set without any trouble. There’s some swelling and some bruising but her armor took a good deal of the damage for her. Now I know that your Valkyries love nothing more than completely ignoring my medical advice but I highly recommend a rest period of a week at the very least.” 

“She has to compete tomorrow.” Anwen said, “If she doesn’t keep fighting their going to kill her.” 

Callum all but laughed in our faces. “She won’t be able to stand on it.” 

“There’s got to be something you can do!” I pleaded 

The medic shook his head, “I ain’t no miracle worker, kid. If you want someone to tell you what you want to hear there’s thousands of charlatans out there selling shit that won’t work. Go buy yourself a magic chicken bone if it’ll make you feel better. The only thing that’s gonna help is time.” 

“Maybe we can get her opponent to forfeit.” I said to Anwen, “Who is she fighting next?” 

Anwen shrugged, “We won’t know until the end of the day. We just have to wait until all the days matches are settled.” 

“Can we see her?” I asked Callum. 

“Yeah she might be a little foggy, had to use a bit of a sedative on her. Don’t stay too long though, some other dumbass is bound to get themselves injured and I need room to work.” 

I nodded briskly and lifted the tent flap, holding it open for Anwen. She shook her head at me, “I…I don’t think I can see her like this. I’m going to go find the others and let them know what’s happened.” 

It was the first time I’d ever seen Anwen shy away from something. After seeing Frigga at the mad house I didn’t think it could be any worse. She had retained her dignity there, I doubted that a battle injury would be able to take much out of her. Anwen and I agreed to meet up outside the arena where we’d picnicked the day before, then I turned and entered the medical tent. 

The second I stepped through I was stuck by the smell. The air was thick with the copper tang of blood and the sharp scent of bleach. The hunter Rochambeau had knocked out was lying on a table near the entrance; most of his body was hidden by white bandages. There were tables, six to each side of the tent and all of the ones on the left were occupied. Two nurses managed the row looking over their patients. I walked down the aisle of injuries and found Frigga at the end of it. She was sitting upright. All of her armor, some of it stained with blood was piled haphazardly around the examination table. Her left leg was imprisoned by a metal brace and was resting in a tray of ice. 

I stopped at the end of her table and bowed. I figured this would be the best way to determine if the sedative had worn off. Her eyes met mine and she dipped her head. 

“Hello Sterling.” She greeted me. 

“How are you feeling?” I asked. 

“Never been better.” She chuckled. 

“Your fight was incredible.” I said, “How did you move so fast? I could hardly keep track of the both of you.” 

“Lots of practice.” Frigga replied, “Your enemy can’t kill you if they can’t catch you.” 

“Do you think Alfred was trying to kill you?” I asked, concerned. 

“Always assume that your opponent wants to kill you, that way you can never be surprised. These battles aren’t supposed to be to the death but Alfred is a passionate hunter. The Logarius Legion is full of martyrs, dying wouldn’t particularly phase him.” She explained. 

I nodded and considered her words for a moment. We both knew I was just beating around the bush. I just couldn’t find a way to approach the subject of tomorrow’s fight. 

“Don’t worry.” She said, “I’m not out of the tournament yet. Callum will patch me up all he can and I will be able to fight tomorrow; I have too. Cato’s life depends on it, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone else die on my watch. We also have to get Templeton back.” 

“Why is she letting Minimus do that to her? I’ve seen her take down crows and she doesn’t shy away from a hunt.” 

Frigga shrugged, “She looses her sense when she’s scared. Temp’s used to the monsters. They don’t freak her out anymore but Minimus is different.” 

“You might have to fight him.” I said. I wish I hadn’t the second after the words settled, but you can’t take a sentence like that back. 

“I know.” She said. 

We didn’t speak anymore after that. The next match had ended and there was a flurry of activity as one of the woodland hunters was rushed into the room. A nurse shoved me out of the tent, I collided with Callum as he was rushing in. Coughing out tobacco smoke, I stumbled into the open once more. I took a second to collect myself and then headed out to meet the others. 

It was the first time I’d seen Cato sober in a while. He was sitting on the grass playing dice with the twins and Imogen. Anwen was standing, keeping watch over all of them. The two Altered Boys were there too. When Piebald saw me approaching he waved and I forced a smile for him. 

“She’s doing well.” I said before they could ask me, “We talked awhile, they’d numbed her leg with ice it didn’t seem like she was feeling any pain.” 

“We checked the rules.” Beetle said, “None of you can substitute. No one gets to have a Second. There aren’t any injury accommodations, nothing that will get her a delay. There all iron clad, steadfast no exceptions.” 

“It’s not fair.” Imogen sighed, “She can’t fight with a busted leg.” 

“The medic’s a hack.” Cato snarled, “Couldn’t fix me can’t fix Frigga what the fuck is he even good for?” 

“He’s doing his best Cay.” Salem said, “He studied at the healing church. If there were an arcane solution he would have used it by now.” 

“So what are we supposed to do?” Cato asked. 

No one had an answer. Imogen was holding back tears, Salem put her arm around her. We all ended up embracing more or less, patting each other on the back when we were ready to let go. With each moment of contact we made an effort to share strength, offer some small measure of hope. 

“We need to get in.” Anwen said. 

“I can get us in.” Piebald said, “You ought to know who Frigga will have to fight.” 

“We’ll force the bastard to surrender.” Cato snarled. 

The crowds parted for us and we found that the seats we’d occupied earlier had new occupants. We sat ourselves on the stairs, leaning out of the way when people came trampling down. The waves of spectators broke against us, and we were able to see the fights below I relative comfort. It wasn’t fun anymore, no more lemonade or lager. When someone was felled we didn’t cheer or get caught up in the antics of those around us. In our minds we were all just counting down. Every felled hunter was one less that we had to worry about. 

I had seen a lot of fighting styles, but when Fwahe stepped into the arena everyone knew they were in for something special. Even our half defeated group of Valkyries craned forward for a slightly better view. 

The herald had trouble finding an inoffensive way to announce her and spent a lot of time dancing around the subject. “Our next contestant hails from…the fallen city of Cainhurst….but has taken residence somewhere in…well…I believe in Yharnam perhaps. Not much is known about this mysterious lady, who prefers to wear her v…victims skin as part of her armor. She is the slayer of the monster that Sister Veera became... Hunters of hunters I her own right. She’s….well…just …let’s welcome the Huntress Fwahe!” 

She strode in without celebration, not all business or focus like Gaines but casually. She stepped into the arena as though things had already been decided. She had a decent sized blade slung over her shoulder. It wasn’t fancy or inlaid with filigree like some of the elaborate battle weapons that had been on display today. The blade she carried was a dark greyish color; I couldn’t decide what metal it was made out of. Her outfit hadn’t changed either, the fur cloak crafted from the carcass of Sister Veera added to her obscurity. 

“And now for her challenger!” The herald said, urging his pony towards the other side of the arena. He seemed eager to put distance between himself and Fwahe. Before they were even announced, 

Fwahe’s challenger came galloping confidently into the arena. At first I was concerned it was the Abbot himself but as the yet to be named hunter came riding into the arena I realized his horse was different. It was a similar pitch black but it had a white smudge around its nose. It ruined the effect of the animal, making it look a bit silly. 

The hunter atop the horse was swinging an enormous weapon in circles above his head with one hand as he circled the arena to the cheers of the crowd. It looked like a cross between a scythe and a hammer. It had a flat head at one end that seemed to be imbibed with arcane fire. Opposite the hammer’s head were two spiked prongs. He had long dark hair which was pulled back into a ponytail, tied with a black ribbon. He wore a hunter’s cap and a long coat with some minimal leather armor. Once he’d made a full circuit of the arena he returned to his starting position and the herald continued. 

“Ladies and Gentleman allow me to introduce the terror of the north! His parents were from France, and they had the misfortune of selecting Italy for their vacation.He was born in the middle of the Venetian infection and sent out across the water as a child with naught but a knife to keep the drowned men at bay. When he arrived at our shores we were astonished to find him alive and untarnished. He studied with woodland hunters, church hunters and controlled a portion of the northern territories before demanding his chance to become a hunter of hunters. He is known not only for his skill with a weapon but for being the fastest hunter alive to complete the hunter of hunters test. Now he roams wherever he pleases seeking girls and glory. He rides for you now on the horse he won as champion of the previous Hunter’s Torunament. My friends I give you the unkillable, the yet-to-be bested, Monsieur Lafayette Cohen, Hunter of Hunters!” 

The crowd was at it’s peak volume. Some of these denizens must’ve witnessed Lafayette’s victory at the previous tournament. He tapped the horse with his feet and it reared up on it’s hind legs. Fwahe tossed her head and rolled her eyes at the spectacle Lafayette was putting on. 

“Let the battle begin!” The herald shouted. 

The horses’ hooves churned up dirt and sand as it galloped towards Fwahe, her opponent held out the spiked end of his hammer as one would a lance; straight-up willing to spear the lone hunter that stood between him and victory. 

Fwahe rolled under his hammer. The crowd groaned, they wanted their champion to have an easy victory. Lafayette gathered up his horse, turning it around for another attack. He was quite surprised to find that Fwahe was not in front of him where he expected her to be. She had danced underneath the animal as it turned, dodging its’ hooves and coming up behind it. Lafayette tried to swipe at her but he didn’t have the reach. She kept up with him as his horse whirled around, twisting him up in circles and driving him back towards the middle of the arena. She tried to get a stab or two in but they were all blocked. Lafayette kept a level head despite his opening strategy being thwarted. 

With a tap of his feet Lafayette directed his horse to kick out it’s back legs. Fwahe jumped back not a second too soon and held up the flat of her blade. The hooves struck it, sparks flying. Lafayette’s horse backstepped, preparing to kick again. Before the animal struck again Fwahe sidestepped and slashed at the stirrup of Lafayette’s saddle. Her sword glanced over his hammer, he was fast enough to counter. 

Lafayette’s laughter echoed around the arena and he grinned. “This is fun! You put up quite the fight” 

Fwahe didn’t respond beyond a glare. She charged, digging the blade of her sword into the ground, using it the way that the Altered Boy’s used their spears. She vaulted at him, the sword giving her the height she needed. Her leg was outstretched and her foot just barely grazed her opponent’s jaw. If she had gotten just an inch more it would’ve been a great kick. She couldn’t set up her move fast enough; he was able to counter it, stepping his horse away expertly. The animal was as fearless as he was. If Fwahe wanted to win this battle she was going to have to unhorse the champion. 

As soon as Fwahe landed she dashed across the arena, hauling her sword along behind her, jumping left and right. If she was baiting him, Lafayette took it; charging his horse after her. He kept switching his hammer from side to side, trying to keep it on the side Fwahe landed on. When she reached the wall, out of room to run, Fwahe ran her hand along her blade. 

The dark grey metal glowed an eerie blue green and the crowd gasped. Their champion wasn’t the only one who was using arcane powers today. Fwahe slashed her blade and a crecent of the green light shot towards her opponent. It was too quick for him to counter, it slashed the stirrup she’d missed before and the saddle shifted and began to slide. Spooked by the magic the horse reared up again, and the confident champion clung to its’ reigns. He couldn’t escape the backwards momentum, but his iron grip didn’t help his mount. The two collapsed onto the ground, throwing up a cloud of dust. 

The horse attempted to roll over and right itself. Lafayette had to dodge, one foot still dragging the saddle to avoid being crushed by his steed. 

The crowd gasped, jaws dropped in disbelief. The frightened horse galloped back through the door that Lafayette had road it through. 

“Still having fun?” Fwahe asked, herself the one laughing now. She didn’t wait for him to respond, charging at him again and bringing her blade around with her. Lafayette met her swing with his hammer, a resounding clang rang out when the two weapons met. 

The two locked eyes, flames billowed from the head of Lafayette’s hammer and I was sure Fwahe could feel the heat of them. She didn’t give in pressing her weapon to his in equal and opposite power. She dug her heels in and shoved against the hammer with all her might. It lost it’s purchase and slipped, sending Lafayette stumbling back. F

wahe was on the offensive once more, slashing forward as Lafayette worked to regain his footing, shaking his leg rapidly to dislodge the saddle strap that was slowing him down. Even multi-tasking he was able to deflect the lone hunter’s hits sparks flying into the dirt with each parry. He led her around in circles, sidestepping only when necessary. They changed direction constantly the barrage of attacks never ending, always initiated by Fwahe. She made another slash at him, Lafayette flicked his wrist catching the hilt of Fwahe’s sword inbetween the two spiked prongs opposite the hammers’ head. With a swift yank he sent the sword flying sailing over both of the competitor’s heads. 

For a few sickening seconds it seemed as though the sword were headed into the crowd. I thought it was going to spear someone in the front row but it narrowly missed embedding it’s point in the railing. 

Grinning, pleased that his opponent had been disarmed, Lafayette brought his hammer down towards Frigga’s head. Her hands, having darted into her cloak as the hunter of hunters drew back his weapon now shot up brining the twin blades of mercy up along with them. Her blades crossed, braced against each other in an X shape and she caught the long handle of the hammer between them. Their razor sharp edges scratched against the handle creating a unsettling metallic scream. 

Fwahe dug her heels in once more pressing her blades upwards and keeping the crushing weight of the hammer from smashing her skull. Lafayette bore his whole weight down on the hammer. We could see Fwahe’s blades shake, straining to resist the hammer’s force. She knew she couldn’t keep it up forever. Fwahe suddenly dropped her blades and rolled between Lafayette’s legs. He stumbled forward, the weight of his hammer pulling him down. 

He was back on his feet as quickly as she was. He turned around and charged for her drawing his hammer behind it and swirling it towards Fwahe in a wide swing. She jumped out of range, then back again before his swing was completed slashing her blades into his ribcage. They cut through the leather coat and cloth shirt scraping the skin and drawing blood. We cheered for her but it was drowned out by boos and cursing from the crowd. They were more than a little biased. 

Lafayette wasn’t smiling now. He gave his hammer a shake and a ball of flame shot towards Fwahe. She rolled out of its way but Lafayette had sent out another and this one caught the ends of her cloak. She ducked into another roll and put the fire out before it could spread. The smell of burning hair filled the arena, and a few of the white hairs on Fwahe’s cloak were singed black. She glared at her opponent once more. “I killed a bitch for that.” She proclaimed and ran at the hunter of hunters once again. 

Her blades were too small to counter his strikes but Kos above they were fast. She was able to dart out of the way before he could hit her. She would dart in with a stab before he could complete his swing or as he drew back his hammer for the next one. Sometimes her blade found its way through Lafayette’s garments, other times not but with her speed and repetition his clothing was quickly deteriorating into ribbons. 

It was an extremely dangerous approach. If Fwahe slipped up, if she slowed down or lost her footing just once then she’d be smashed in the side with the hammer and the battle would be lost. Her knife was at his throat and I let out a sigh of relief. I breathed again, unaware that I’d been holding it in but before I could celebrate her victory Lafayette had ducked and dodged. She hadn’t been able to keep her hold for ten seconds and the flurry of swipes and flashes began again. 

Fwahe never seemed to stay at a disadvantage. She could fight with lots of ground or none at all. She was excellent when she had reach but equally as good without it. Everything moved so fast it hurt your brain trying to keep up. If one of them didn’t gain the upper hand the medical tents would be swarmed with spectators all ailing of headaches. 

Lafayette was advancing on her, backing Fwahe into a wall. He only made that one mistake, he chose the wrong wall, the one with Fwahe’s sword embedded high overhead in the railing. Lafayette swung his hammer in from the side. In a perfectly time leap Fwahe landed on the side of the weapon and sprang off, the extra elevation propelling her right to the handle of her weapon. Her weight pulled it down from it’s perch and she dropped to the arena floor. She was still backed against the wall but she sent another bolt of green light out of her blade and knocked Lafayette back. She kicked out at him again and this time her bare foot connected with his jaw. He was overbalance and tumbled to the ground where Fwahe held the blade to his throat, foot firmly planted on his chest. 

She counted her victory herself, and she was uncontested. Once the herald called the match she kicked off her opponent’s chest and went sprinting for the exit. Lafayette whistled for his horse and climbed aboard it waving to the devastated spectators as he exited the arena. 

“I know how Frigga can win tomorrow.” I said, turning to the others and trying to get my voice over the cacophony of the crowd. I had no idea if they’d heard me or not but I was brimming with hope once more. They needed to know, and we needed to move. 

I grabbed Cato who was sitting nearest me and shouted into his ear “I know how Frigga can win tomorrow!” 

It must’ve been too loud he looked like he was going to murder me for a second before he processed what I said and his face displayed a mix of hope and confusion. He began to pass it down the line and I asked for him to switch places with Piebald. Once the Altered Boy was close enough to me I shouted into his ear. 

“We can use Swift! If Frigga stays on her horse then she won’t need her legs! If she can fight from up there…I mean it could work right?” 

Piebald nodded vigorously and began to pass things down the line. The twins pounded me on the back, Anwen ruffled my hair. Cato started to talk to the others as the next match began. Plans formed almost instantly. Piebald and I left the arena to go and get Swift ready, Imogen and the twins were staying to size up Frigga’s next opponent. Cato, Anwen and Beetle were off to Callum’s, not only to inform Frigga but to loot supplies so Cato could modify a saddle. There was no hesitation or arguments, it was the only plan we had and we were going to give it our all, come hell or highwater. 

I’d done so much running today I was surprised I had anything left in me. Piebald was twice as fast as I was and kept calling back over his shoulder at me. Fwahe caught sight of us as she was leaving the arena and bounded after us in pursuit. She caught up with me easily, her clothes were still splattered with Lafayette’s blood. 

She grabbed me by the collar and pulled me to a stop. “What’s going on?” she asked. 

“Nothing bad.” I told her, “Nice victory but I found a way to help Frigga win and we’ve got to move.” 

I don’t know if she understood me or not but I wrestled my way out of her grip and tore across the grounds trying to catch up to the Altered Boy again. 

The arena wasn’t too far from the stables so I didn’t have to keep chasing Piebald for long. There were about ten horses in a stable capable of holding three times that number. Swift was the only silver one and Piebald was already in the stall with her, scratching the mare’s ears. I leaned against the stall door and caught my breath. 

“I wish Rook were here.” Piebald sighed, “He was best with her. We never would’ve saved her without him.” 

“You said he was getting his wits back though…he’s going to be fine. Being tested on by the church would make anyone go a little crazy.” I said. 

Piebald nodded, “I know. Larkspur is holding everyone together but…I know his hands have gone. We all know that their transformed under those gloves but none of us want to say anything. We don’t want Minimus to cut his fingers off too. We talked about it and decided that we’d just wait for a cure, if it spreads at all we’ll take care of it. It hasn’t spread, it won’t. I don’t think it will I mean.” 

“I won’t tell anyone.” I promised him. “It’s not like he’s going to turn beast anyway. It’s just some weird church trick there’s bound to be a reversal somehow.” 

Piebald nodded again and began to collect the horses’ equipment. I was glad that he knew what he was doing, if I’d been left to my own devices the saddle would’ve ended up upside down. The Altered Boy was smart enough to just hand me a brush and trust I couldn’t mess that up too bad. He got the saddle on and softly stroked Swift’s nose until she let him slip the bridle over her head. 

“So now what?” I asked. 

“Well ideally we’d have a few weeks to train her and make sure she doesn’t spook if someone comes at her with a blade. Unfortunately we only have a matter of hours so we’re going to have to just try and keep her calm and pack in as much as possible.” He explained, “Get her used to the sound and sights of combat however we can.” 

“So you want me to swing a blade at a horse?” I asked. 

“Yeah, pretty much.” Piebald laughed, “Sorry I guess my explanation was a bit long-winded.” 

I didn’t mind, he could’ve spent all night explaining. It was the charging at a horse I wasn’t too fond of. Still, this had been my plan and if it would help Frigga I was willing to get trampled half to death by the spirited mare. 

“Make sure you don’t hurt her.” Piebald said as he climbed into the saddle. “It’s just training.” We ran Swift through drills until neither of us could think straight. As the Altered Boy had predicted she spooked a lot at first but got used to things over time. It wasn’t long before he could get her to charge right at me even if I were banging a sword against a shield. The horse trusted him, and I hoped she would do the same for Frigga. When we had done all we could I took Swift by the reigns and began to lead her towards the medical tent. 

One of the nurses caught sight of us and ducked inside to get Callum. He took one look at us and said, “Listen I know your stupid but you can’t’ possibly think that I’m going to let you bring a horse into my tent. Your brute squad already looted me for supplies, Frigga’s not gonna be the only one who needs a damn leg brace. Wherever the thief got off to, he’d better give it back.” 

I explained our plan about keeping Frigga on horseback for her next fight. Callum assured us it was stupid but slightly less stupid then having her go in on foot. He still wouldn’t let us take Swift in but he offered to have Frigga brought out. 

“Fwahe’s in there with her; I’d take a beat if I were you. You wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.” 

Piebald and I nodded. The Altered Boy tethered Swift to a nearby post and let her graze while we waited. Cato, Anwen and Beetle returned before Fwahe exited. Anwen had their new contraption slung over her shoulder. Cato had replaced one of the stirrup and tread covers with the leg brace, it hung down and clanged against Anwen’s plate armor as she came over to join us. He’d also built up the seat and cantle so that Frigga would be able to brace her back against something if she needed too. The rest seemed to have retained its original condition. Anwen and Piebald worked to get Swift into her new gear. 

Fwahe emerged from the tent carrying Frigga in her arms, bridal-style. Frigga didn’t look particularly pleased by this and was wincing in pain, trying to keep her leg straight. 

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Callum asked the lone hunter, “She needs to be kept on that ice for as long as possible.” 

“She’ll have to practice.” Fwahe said and carried her over to the horse. 

Callum blew smoke through his nostrils and muttered curses under his breath. 

It took a good deal of effort and a lot of Anwen’s strength to get Frigga into the saddle. We had to call Callum over to switch out the leg brace. He refused at first but Fwahe grabbed his pipe right out of his mouth and wouldn’t give it back until he did as he was asked. 

We all pleaded with Frigga to take it slow at first, it had taken enough trial and error just to get her into the saddle. I was beginning to second guess my plan. Frigga stroked the mare’s neck and whispered to her softly before tapping her good heel and getting Swift to start forward. It was a slow leisurely walk at first, just back and forth across the grass. They worked a lot on turning, as that was an area Lafayette hadn’t done particularly well in. 

Before long it seemed like the pain had stopped. Frigga was smiling and urging the energetic mare faster and faster. We all urged caution but she built up speed and the silver mare jumped a nearby fence. The two were of the same mind. Frigga asked one of us to spar with her, breaking branches off a nearby tree instead of using swords. It reminded us all that she didn’t have a weapon. 

“Guess you’ll be needing my cane then.” Cato mumbled, “I don’t believe it’s been threaded but you stick a point on the end and at least it’ll be familiar.” 

“Nonsense, she can take my hammer.” Anwen said. 

“Or my blades.” Salem put in. 

Frigga smiled down at us, “Did none of you consider just buying a new trick weapon? There’s got to be a few weapon-makers here.” 

“Yeah but that might be a problem considering Minimus’ council has seized all of our funds for the moment.” Sage replied. 

We looked to Fwahe but she shook her head, “Had to get my sword repaired. Tom says I can’t spend any more or I won’t be able to eat.” 

“Still on about Tom?” Callum sighed. He pulled a vial out of his pocket and passed it to Fwahe. “Take this, it should help with the headaches.” 

She took the vial, uncorked it and downed it in one gulp. 

“You wouldn’t believe how many goddamn duels happen at these tournaments. Not the actual matches but just people talking shit and getting pissed at one another. Since I seemed to be the only goddamn medic in a thirty mile radius they all come crying to me with their bribes. Turn yourself around so you can have deniability and then once their done shooting each other you patch up whoever you can. “He took a coin purse out of his apron pocket, “But they pay in advance. If you all swear to stay the fuck away from my tent I will fund your stupid death machine, Alright?” 

Imogen threw her arms around the medic and kissed him on the cheek. Callum shoved her away and dusted off his apron, flakes of dried blood falling onto the grass, “Yeah, yeah, yeah I’m a regular hero. Just make sure no one goes dying on me.” 

Financial future secured Fwahe and Beetle raced towards the market before it closed down. The twins took Frigga on first switching out when they felt it necessary. They were going easy on her at first but Frigga was giving it her best effort and made them try harder. Callum yelled at us to take our fighting somewhere else and Frigga was glad to oblige racing her horse across the grounds and forcing us all to chase after her. The animal was aptly named. 

When we finally found a clear field for her to practice in the sky was starting to turn dark. We were going to lose the light. We lit a few fires and continued to drill. Fwahe and Beetle found us before too long and produced a threaded cane for our patron. It didn’t have a dragon’s head handle but the work seemed solid. Provided there weren’t any direct hits from kirkhammers it should hold. 

It was my turn to spar with Frigga and I was getting into position when out of nowhere a person with a hood pulled over their head collided with me, knocking me onto the ground. Fwahe leapt into action, grabbing the mysterious stranger by the collar and shaking them until their hood came down. 

“Sorry! Sorry!” The voice behind the hood squeaked. The firelight revealed Templeton, but one of the lenses of her glasses was missing. No wonder she had collided with me, half blind the way she was. Her eyes squinted and she tried to make sense of Fwahe’s face. 

“Drop her.” Anwen said to Fwahe. 

Fwahe released her grip and the tiny scholar hit the ground. 

“Anwen?” Templeton asked. 

“It’s her.” Frigga said 

“Frigga!” Templeton shouted in surprise, “Minimus wouldn’t let me watch your match, what happened?” 

“Her foot got busted so she’s training on a horse.” Cato summarized, “She won though. Kicked Alfred out of the contest.” 

“Frigga I’ve got to talk to you.” Templeton said, “I still haven’t been able to tell you about my research.” 

“I know Temp.” Frigga said, “I really want to hear what you have to say but I’ve got to practice. I haven’t fought on horseback in so long.” 

Templeton looked like she wanted to argue but didn’t say anything. She hung her head and shuffled away from the practice grounds so that our sparring could continue. Before we began Frigga sent Salem and Sage off with Templeton to find a glass maker and see if her lens couldn’t be replaced before morning. Templeton was glad of their aid since Minimus had allowed her to go out with the same goal of glass repair. She was supposed to be escorted by his guards but the clever scholar put together a sleeping draft and slipped it into their beers. They were down on the job and she was able to get a few seconds to herself. 

I wish she could’ve stayed, she might have had some useful bits of information on horsemanship. We could use all we could get, confident though Frigga was she didn’t ride like Lafayette. She was still learning to handle reigns in one hand, weapon in the other. She had been out of practice and it was rough getting back into things, one leg down. 

I slumped back to my tent, feet aching. We had drilled nonstop until the sun started to peek back over the horizon and Anwen was able to convince Frigga that she needed some rest. Fwahe volunteered to return her to the medical tent; figuring she had the best chance of avoiding Callum’s wrath. 

Tamsin was on guard for the Byrgenwerth Hunters. She tried to pull me into a conversation about her battle with Gaines but I kept yawning. She assured me she wouldn’t report me for missing curfew and helped me find my way back to my tent. Tamsin also told me that she’d be cheering for Frigga and really hoped that my patron could pull out a win somehow. Losing to Gaines seemed to have softened her a bit. 

I knew I couldn’t sleep for long, I couldn’t risk missing the match. It seemed like I had only managed to close my eyes for a second before I had to get up again. My body was sore right down through the bones, every bit begging to stay down. I resisted the siren songs of the dream world and sleepily shuffled out of the tent. 

Many of the Byrgenwerth hunters had also chosen to wake up early, though their task was breakfast preparation. Ivor was one of the first in the breakfast line waiting to down his bodyweight in bacon. I forced myself to wait in line. I grabbed whatever was portable, which happened to be scalding hot hard boiled eggs fresh from the boiling pot. They turned my skin red but I shoved two into each of pants pockets for a total of four then broke into a jog for the arena. I didn’t look around for anyone outside; we could find each other once we got in. There were a few people in front of me but things were moving quickly, the seats still unoccupied. 

I further burnt the tips of my fingers as I picked away at the steaming eggshells. Breakfast was painful. I was almost glad to be scalded. The heat of the previous day had disappeared; it was one of those freak warm fronts in the middle of November that never make any sense. Today it was back to a steady coldness in the air. My breath came out in white puffs that dissipated as they spread into the early morning air. Everyone in line was shivering. 

It was warmer inside the arena. The heat coming off the bodies of the other spectators helped to keep the frost at bay. I found my party before too long, Anwen being the great landmark I needed. The Altered Boys were there too, vests pulled as close to closed as they would get. A blanket was draped across both their shoulders. They were going to have to get some winter clothes soon or else Yharnam was in for a harsh and beast filled winter. 

Cato was playing dice with Imogen. They rolled their dice on one of the empty benches and the clattering was about the only sound any of us made. I didn’t say good morning, it didn’t feel right. I took a seat next to Anwen and let my thoughts roam. The longer I considered the half-baked plan I’d thought up the more I wanted to crawl under the bench and hide. If Frigga was too fall now, part of that would be on me. That thought sat like a boulder in the pit of my stomach and I found myself wishing I hadn’t eaten so many eggs. Time passed and soon others began to fill the seats. Everything got louder and silence began to feel forbidden. 

“Did you get Templeton new glasses?” I asked trying to think of something besides the battle to discuss. 

“Yeah, we had to threaten the glass blower to get him to go to work that late but he didn’t spend too long protesting.” Sage replied, “We were heading back and hoping that Templeton could spend some time with us when the police showed up.” 

“There was one of them who was different than the others.” Salem said, “Most of them are all big and braggy. They don’t wear their hoods and they don’t care if you know what they look like. The new one didn’t say anything and kept their hood pulled over their head. It was too dark to make out any details but it seems Minimus might have some kind of secret weapon.” 

“Great just what he needs, another fucking advantage.” Cato spat. 

“It’ll be alright.” Anwen said. 

It was easier to just listen to the stupid part of my brain that wanted to believe her, then question everything. I shut my doubts out of my head. 

The sun climbed higher into the sky but it didn’t warm anything. When the herald took the field he had a fur-lined velvet cape draped over his shoulders. His teeth didn’t chatter and his voice didn’t shake when he spoke so the cloak must’ve been doing its job. 

The crowd cheered less. They spent more time rubbing their hands together for warmth and less time clapping. The herald seemed greatly discouraged by this and put twice as much effort into his announcements. We all just wanted him to shut up and get on with it. 

I tried to pay attention to everything and study all of the fighters, their weapons and styles. It could prove extremely useful to be aware of what we came up against but after a while they all blurred together. None of the matches were settled quickly like the day before, save the occasional injured contestant who took the knee and forfeited. Everyone was more evenly matched and could go round after round with one another. My eyes couldn’t keep up and I started to lean more and more heavily on Anwen’s shoulder. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked me. 

“My head hurts.” I replied. 

“Shit kid when was the last time you had any blood?” Cato asked. 

“Can’t remember.” I said, “But it’s been a few days.” 

“Well here.” He said passing me a blood vial, “Shoot up before we have to take you to that hack doctor again. Last thing we need is for him to come asking for a refund.” 

I nodded my thanks and pressed the needle through my skin. The plunger sent beasts’ blood gushing down my bloodstream. The weariness and headaches dissipated, suddenly I could keep up with the speed of the fighters. The cold didn’t seem to be as oppressive. I was growing more and more dependent on the stuff. I was almost glad to be scalded. The heat of the previous day had disappeared; it was one of those freak warm fronts in the middle of November that never make any sense. Today it was back to a steady coldness in the air. My breath came out in white puffs that dissipated as they spread into the early morning air. Everyone in line was shivering. Now that I was able to focus on the battles they were more interesting. I found myself wishing I had let Templeton teach me to read so I could take notes. If Frigga was going to best everyone in the ring, I wanted to be able to list off their weapons and typical attacks for her. 

It started to rain, a steady drizzle coming down on us and soaking us right through to the bone. The water churned the grounds up into a muddy quagmire. The hunters had to trudge knee deep through a cesspool of mud undulating with the split blood of past competitors. It was downright dangerous to fight on foot in, everyone was slipping over themselves. Victors and loosers a like left the ring looking like they had crawled out of their graves. Their skin was streaked with mud and their hair caked and matted. Salem took shelter under Anwen’s cape pulling her hat further over her head to try and protect her dark curls from the rain. Vendors sold bowls of steaming soup, hot cider and spirits. We spent the remainder of Callum’s donation trying to stay warm. I kept my fingers from freezing by curling them around a steaming bowl of chicken stew. 

I was grateful for the downpour. Although it left us spectators shivering the weather gave Frigga a distinct advantage. Swift wouldn’t be held back by the mud. The herald called out attendants to spread fresh sand over the field time and time again but it didn’t help. The rain kept making things worse. 

Church hunters were having the roughest time of anyone, their robes would get sucked into the mud and weigh them down. The same couldn’t be said for the woodland hunters, they embraced the strange terrain. They were used to fighting in the mud and could manipulate it to their advantage. Their typical light armor made it easier for them to move; full plate armor was proving difficult for many of the competitors today. 

The fights lasted a lot longer too. With the less skilled competitors weeded out on the first day of the tournament it left nothing but the practiced and well trained to compete. They seemed to circle each other for hours and never make any progress, patient and proficient with their weapons. There were more forfeits today then I’d ever seen at a tourney before. The mace-wielder Rochambeau, even hampered by the torrents of mud was too great a risk for his opponent. The shy lone hunter he was placed up against took the knee before he could unsheathe his tonitrus and he advanced to the next round effortlessly. 

Fwahe would’ve been able to do the same if she had taken a second before leaping into action. She was paired up with a white-robed huntress from Sister Veera’s cult named Juliana. The herald had hardly finished announcing the both of them when Fwahe went dashing across the arena. Her bare feet left behind muddy footprints and all it took was a sudden kick to the jaw to knock the church hunter into the mud. The thick murky substance quickly got a hold of her church robes and she couldn’t right herself. The herald counted off Fwahe’s victory and then Rochambeau was called back onto the field to help haul the huntress out of the mud. 

Rumors circulated later that day that Juliana intended to take the knee and forfeit. I didn’t buy it, and I figured that the church was just trying to save face. Fwahe didn’t care, a victory was a victory; all the more triumphant if she never had to unsheathe her blade to achieve it. 

The Lord’s Box was more full today. I could see hordes of Minimus’ police, their red and black robes blurred together in a sea of sameness. I thought I could see Templeton’s mess of hair behind one of the robes. I checked for the mysterious hooded person that Salem had mentioned. It didn’t seem like any of the brutes kept their hoods up but the distance was too great to be certain. 

“Did you find out who Frigga is fighting against?” I asked Salem 

She nodded, her curls bobbing back and forth, sending raindrops in either direction. Salem sighed and said, “She’s going to be fighting Queen Aspen.” 

“Who’s that?” I asked. 

“Oh right you wouldn’t know.” Salem replied, “Back before communion got established and the English Hunting Community was a thing the Woodlanders had their own way of doing things. They were ruled by a monarch, it helped to establish territory, boundaries, and things like that. The woods used to be pretty lawless.” 

Of course we’d have the bad luck to get put up against a woodland hunter on a rainy day. “So she’s like a diplomat? A figure head?” I asked hopefully. 

Salem shook her head, “The Woodlander Queen is chosen by their own private tournament. Queen Aspen has been queen for ten years, the longest rule of any one Woodlander Queen. Unlike Minimus, their ruler is challenged yearly and she has remained undefeated for the past ten years. Her subjects love her but they aren’t shy about trying to unseat her either and their attempts to claim the throne have been admirable. When the church began its rise to power they tried to eliminate the monarchy system that the Woodlanders had. Instead of starting a war the woodlanders holed up together in a massive underground burrow. The forests were overrun with beasts and they poured into the city. The church had to beg them to return and they’ve been able to maintain their monarch ever since.” 

“Then why do the woodland hunters participate in things like communion? Why do they let Minimus rule them as well?” I asked. 

“It’s easier to keep the peace if the church and the woodland respect each other.” Salem said, “Beyond that it gets complicated and political and I wouldn’t know.” 

I nodded, “So Frigga has to take down an undefeated warrior queen?” 

“Yes.” Salem said. 

“Fuck.” I muttered. 

Frigga’s battle didn’t begin until midday. I carried a sinking feeling in my stomach for the rest of the morning. 

Queen Aspen did not dress in the ragged mossy cloaks of the typical woodland hunter. She didn’t wear elaborate dresses either, and didn’t stand out as either a queen or a huntress but the way her warriors cheered for her lent enough authority for me to be terrified. She was dressed in simple brown leather armor over a green tunic and pants. Her hair was braided back to keep it from her face, the only adornment she bore was a golden wring of leaves that she wore on her head. I deduced this to be her crown. 

“She’s going to kill Frigga, the bloodthirsty bitch.” Cato growled. 

“What do you mean?” I asked. The Queen’s eyes weren’t full of malice or diluted with beasts’ bood. She was neither as tall nor as muscular as Anwen and carried a simple sword for a weapon. Her eyes were sweet and golden like honey. She smiled and waved to her hunters in the crowd. 

“Salem might’ve given you all the technical bullshit but that’s Aspen Heart-Eater.” Cato replied. He paused and let the name sink in before he continued, “You probably think she’s all sweet and cute and crap, right?” 

I nodded. 

“Wrong.” Cato replied, “I was young, we were at communion and I see this fucking magical woodland girl right, and this was before I’d experienced the other half of the population and found Altered Boys more to my satisfaction. Anyways I was young and dumb and she was young and beautiful so Abbot Whoever-the-fuck is all talking and I make eyes with her and she with me. We slip away down to one of the confessional booths, close quarters. We knock hips, jump bones whatever euphemism you wanna use. So I’m lying there after, mind fucking blown, then she turns to me and asks if I’ve ever eaten a human heart before.” 

“That did not happen.” Salem said. 

“Swear to Kos it did.” Cato replied, “I’m kind of spooked but she’s still like really beautiful and I’m thinking maybe this is just odd woodlander flirting. Maybe if I just go along with things I’ll get to go again. She goes on and says that she herself has eaten the hearts of every person she’s killed. Her sect of Woodlander’s believe that if you consume the heart before the person’s dead you take in their soul and gain their strength.” 

“That might explain why her opponent forfeited yesterday.” Salem admitted. 

“No fuck it would. I was freaked thought she was gonna kill me. Guess we were being loud ‘cos some church huntress opened the door. Never been so happy to be caught with my pants down in all my life.” Cato said, “But I assure you Aspen doesn’t just want to take Frigga down she wants to eat her heart out.” 

It almost didn’t matter if Cato’s horror story were true or not, I couldn’t look at the huntress the same way again. Suspected Cannibalism makes you more critical of a person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! (and forgive the Hamilton reference...I just couldn't help it.)


	17. Chapter the Seventeenth: In Which Frigga Fights a Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How will Sterling's plan for mounted combat against the Heart-Eater play out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think!

“Ladies and Gentlemen allow me to again present the beautiful and battle-tested Queen of the Woodlanders.” The herald began, “She’s been given many titles but none can equal her ferocity on the field. Do not be deceived by the demure appearance my friends, she is truly a force to be reckoned with. We were so unfortunately unable to witness her true power, so intimidated was yesterdays foe. I hope you will join me in welcoming her royal majesty, rightful queen of the Woodlands, Victor of the Trees’ tournament for ten years and counting, the one and only Queen Aspen of England!” 

Every woodland hunter in a ten mile radius went berserk. 

Aspen stepped into the ring and performed a perfect curtsey towards the crowd. The herald clapped along with the spectators, clearly charmed by her appearance as I’d been moments before. 

“I am so sure you will get to see her battle because, Ladies and Gentlemen if her opponent doesn’t win she shall swing from the hangmen’s noose come tourney’s end.” The herald continued, “Yesterday she defeated Alfred of the church and today she will attempt to dethrone the Queen. Luck has not been on the side of this prisoner forced to compete, but I give you my friends the determined Miss Hemlock of Yharnam all the same.” 

I was going to have to have a word with this herald before too long. She had proven herself a capable huntress the day before and he still announced her like an afterthought. 

Frigga clicked her good heel and Swift trotted forth into the ring. We hadn’t been able to practice on any muddy ground the night before and I was worried the mare might lose her footing. Frigga wore most of her plate armor but the brace on her injured leg wouldn’t allow any room for a covering. She had to leave it fairly exposed. Frigga had her helmet on this time, she didn’t seem keen on denying the few advantages she had. The new threaded cane gleamed at her hip. 

She tapped Swift with her foot and the horse dipped into a bow, Frigga lowering her head, both of them paying tribute to Queen Aspen. The huntress returned their greeting, taking a knee and extending her right arm outward; communicating her deep respect for the competitor. Frigga rose and then inclined her head towards the crowds who didn’t seem particularly for or against her today. She wasn’t nearly as polarizing as Fwahe. 

Once the herald declared the battle begun, all formalities were dropped. 

Aspen ran towards Frigga, unsheathing her sword as she charged. Frigga urged Swift forward and held out her pointed cane to parry blows. They missed each other the first time around, the horses’ speed was underestimated by the Woodland Queen and she swung too late to connect her attack. Aspen’s sword only cut empty air. 

Swift seemed to be having the time of her life. The spirited mare tossed her head before charging towards the woodlander once more. Frigga was on the attack now, she thundered past the Queen who barely had time to get her sword up and block the blow. With a twist of the reigns Frigga began to pull Swift into a tight circle, trapping Aspen inside and limiting her range of motion considerably. Frigga traded blows with the Woodlander from atop her horse, speed and rang on her side. 

Aspen was clever and quick. She was able to keep blocking Frigga’s blows and she made many attempts to dive between Swift’s hooves and regain proper use of the arena. The horse seemed to delight every time she tried, happily stomping her hooves down and blocking the huntresses’ way. It was all a game to the mare. 

Still, Swift couldn’t win every time and she was slow to stop the Woodlander just once, allowing her to break out into the open. Aspen swung her sword for Swift’s side, ready to harm the animal to get her victory. Swift snorted and rose up on her hind legs. I could see Frigga tense and cling more tightly to the startled animal. Swift’s hooves hit the ground solidly, sending a wave of splashing mud into Aspen’s face. A few of the spectators chuckled. Aspen spat a gob of mud onto the ground. 

Frigga extended her weapon. Its chain was not so fine or so long as her former cane had been. This chain was a little shorter and bulkier but as she flicked the spiked weapon towards the Woodland Queen it had her on the retreat. Frigga was trying to back her into a corner, and scare her into forfeiting. From atop Swift it would be hard to keep a blade to someone’s throat. Exhausting her opponent into surrender was a much smarter way to go about it. 

“Rook’s going to be jealous when he finds out you had a cannibal girlfriend.” Beetle said, trying to lighten the mood as we all sat on the edge of our seats watching the battle. 

The Altered Boy’s appreciated the seriousness of our situation but they’d been through so much loss and tragedy themselves that they were used to joking about it. Cato tolerated it as well as he could, giving them a very weak and very fake chuckle. His eyes never strayed from the battleground. 

Aspen was never afraid to change her strategy. As Frigga backed her into a corner with the chain she blocked the first few slashes with her sword, staying on the retreat. When the onslaught continued she let the chain wrap itself around her sword and tried to unhorse Frigga by yanking her out of the saddle. The Queen was the first to draw blood, albeit her own, the spiked chain links cutting into her hands as she pulled. Frigga clicked her heel and pulled at the reigns, Swift rearing up, the chain coming along with them. Combining the horses’ power with her own, Frigga was able to pull Aspen right off her feet. Frigga snaked the chain back into the cane and charged towards her adversary. 

Aspen got another face full of mud after her sword has been pulled free. The chain had flung it off some distance and it was sinking into the mud. Aspen tore after her fallen weapon, Frigga and Swift hot on her heels. She grabbed the blade by the hilt and hardly looking where it was going stabbed it into the closest part of her enemy. Frigga let out a gasp of pain as the sword met it’s mark in her injured leg. 

“Bitch!” Cato shouted but he was drowned in the triumphant cries of woodland hunters. 

Aspen laughed, it was the same kind of laughter I’d heard at the mad house. She was getting drunk on the fighting. She pulled her sword back for another stab but Frigga knocked this one aside with her cane. Frigga tried to wheel Swift around, and protect her injury from further disturbances but Aspen blocked her at every turn. The Woodland Queen slid through the mud, using the slippery surface to enhance her speed. 

They danced like this awhile, each trying to be faster than the other. Swift’s legs became coated with mud and it splashed up onto her belly, sometimes even hitting Frigga’s legs. When Frigga finally managed to break away from Aspen’s attacks she urged Swift towards the other side of the field where the ground was a bit fresher and the horse was sure to have better footing. 

“Typical city hunter!” Aspen shouted to the crowd, “Running away from a challenge.” 

A mix of cheers and booing filled the crowd, spectators either strongly in favor or strongly opposed to Her Majesty’s proclamation. 

Frigga didn’t dignify the statement with a response she knew when she was being baited. She had the horse plant its feet at the end of the arena opposite Aspen and waited for her opponent to come closer and attack. They stood at opposite ends and stared at each other for a second, willing themselves into a stalemate. If this tournament allowed for ties that might have been it, but as it was Frigga’s trial by combat she had to win. There was no middle ground in life or death. 

They charged for each other at the same time, breaking their standoff. Swift’s hooves thundered across the unstable terrain, flinging clumps of damp earth behind her. Queen Aspen dug her heels into the mud and braced for the impact of Frigga’s cane. The weapons collided and sparks flew. The crowd roared. Aspen twisted around to try and land a blow as Swift stormed past. The mare once again lived up to her name. The Queen’s sword cut air and nothing else. 

Queen Aspen removed a sheet of arcane paper that had been tucked in one of her bracers. She ran it’s rough surface down her blade and flames crackled to life on the tempered metal. The rain coming down did nothing to diminish the blaze. Raindrops would land on the blade and fizzle to nothing the instant they made contact. The woodland hunters never used horses, it was unlikely Aspen had ever had to compete with one before. They had a good knowledge of animal behaviors and the Heart-eater must’ve known that fire would spook Swift like nothing else. 

When Swift caught sight of the fire and dug in her hooves. Frigga tapped at her side several times but no amount of urging could convince the mare to ride towards the Woodland Queen. When Aspen advanced, Swift retreated backing herself and Frigga into a corner. Aspen controlled the field now, holding her sword extended before her she forced Swift to backstep an entire circuit of the arena. 

Her hunters roared their approval. 

Frigga was keeping a level head. She stroked Swift’s neck and spoke softly to her as she continued to try and regain control of the frightened horse. 

After Aspen had already gained all the territory she could possibly want, she entered her endgame. She backed Swift towards the wall until there was hardly a foot left between Frigga and the wooden planks. Aspen slashed her sword in rapid X shapes to prevent their escape. Sparks from her blade jumped onto Swift’s fur and simmered against Frigga’s plate armor. She pulled back her sword ready to drive it into the animal’s heart. Channeling all of her will and patience into a single command Frigga urged the mare into action once more. 

Swift took a tremendous leap over the flames. She came up behind Aspen and Swift’s two rear hooves shot out and knocked the huntress to the mud. You could feel the impact echo throughout the arena, there had to be some broken bones in there. The light leather armor the Queen wore provided no resistance to something like horses’ hooves. The blazing sword fell and was extinguished as it was sucked down into the muck. 

As luck would have it Swift’s blow had knocked the Woodland Queen unconscious. She was disappearing into the mud, as the herald called out Frigga’s victory. No one in the audience seemed to grasp the scope of the situation. Mud was filling her mouth and nostrils, cutting off all avenues for air. 

Frigga had no wish to see her opponent expire and rather than revel in the unlikely celebration she reached down, almost falling off Swift to get her purchase. Her hands locked on the Queen’s collar and she gave a mighty yank. Aspen emerged from the mud and Frigga pulled her up onto Swift’s back. The horse snorted its distaste but obediently trotted off the field towards Callum’s tent. It seems he had another victim, but we had another victory. 

Callum cussed us out for bringing him another patient but he assured us that it would take more than one kick to kill the Woodland Queen. Hundreds of the tree-dwelling hunters had gathered around the medical tent waiting for his prognosis. Instead of the malice I’d expected them to show us they seemed to have only admiration. When Frigga rode through the crowd they bent the knee and hailed her as a victor. The Woodlanders insisted that when Frigga returned to bedrest she was placed next to their Queen. Callum worked back and forth treating all of their new injuries. 

Anwen, Imogen and Beetle had stayed behind to see who Frigga would go up against next. Despite being completely broke Cato insisted we all go out drinking. There were numerous vendors and one of them was bound to be distracted. It seemed like my street skills were going to be put to use once more. 

Salem had distracted the bar tender, batting her eyelashes at him while I got my fingers on some of the under-the-counter stuff. Cato was on standby, willing to start a bar fight if Salem’s powers of persuasion didn’t work. In the end our expertly crafted plan was foiled by the generosity of the Woodlanders. A few of them were already at the tables under the tent awning and after we’d made our presence known someone declared us Frigga’s crew. Word spread and the Woodlanders vacated a table for us, placing tankards of fresh ale at every empty seat. Coins piled up next to the beverages everyone wanting to buy us our next. 

“What’s going on with them?” I asked Sage. 

He chuckled, “Do you not get the magnitude of what just happened? Not only was their queen bested by Frigga but Aspen’s life was saved too. Frigga could’ve let her die if she’d chosen too; you better believe that if it had been Minimus out there the Woodland monarchy would’ve ended.” 

“Her majesty will no doubt express her gratitude once she awakens.” One of the woodlander women said placing a silver coin on the growing pile in front of me. She batted her eyelashes and blew me a kiss. 

Piebald fixed her with a cold stare. “Don’t be fooled Sterling. Their all heart-eaters.” 

“Don’t be like that.” Salem scolded, “The amount of rumors that circulate about you Altered Boys…couldn’t you be a little more understanding?” 

Piebald didn’t reply he just sipped deeply from his mug. 

The other hunters let word spread quickly and the tent and surrounding area were quickly packed with hunters and denizens alike. Everyone wanted to talk about Frigga, and I was shocked to find that most of them knew our names as well. They called us Valkyries or Frigga’s Followers and didn’t talk about her with the herald’s contempt. Some of the newcomers brought instruments with them and started to play hunter’s ballads. They were unfamiliar to me but Salem, Sage and a fairly spirit-dilled Cato all sand along loudly and out of tune. 

Our revelry lasted long after the sun had dipped below the horizon. It was one of the few times the tournament’s curfew was enforced; a pack of Minimus’ police came and broke things up. I stumbled back to my tent and flopped gratefully onto the bedroll. 

I was roused from my slumber by a rough shaking. I opened my bleary eyes on Cato. He had his hands on my shoulders and was jerking me back and forth. 

“Wh-what?” I mumbled. 

“You’ve got to come with me right now. Aspen’s woken up….it’s…come on!” He said. He grabbed my collar with one hand and took his cane in the other. I was hauled out of my tent and off towards Callum’s. I stumbled along behind him, tripping on every rock, tree root and puddle in my path. My body was trying to catch up with my brain. Thoughts were racing, jumbled together and difficult to understand. Dreams mixed with reality, my head was pounding trying to make sense of it all. 

I don’t know what I expected when we arrived at the tent but it wasn’t any different. The tent flaps weren’t coated with blood, there wasn’t a crowd gathered outside. Cato didn’t slow down, he plowed right through the canvas as though a cleric beast were chasing him. The only two occupied beds were those of the Woodland Queen and our patron. They were sitting, propped up with pillows. On the table between them was a bottle of dark red wine and they were both sipping from goblets, chatting amongst each other. It didn’t seem like a situation that was worth losing sleep over. 

“Majesties.” Cato greeted them, stooping and bowing low. 

They turned towards us. Frigga smiled at me and dipped her head. Aspen did the same. 

“Would either of you care to explain why I was just hauled out of bed?” I asked. There wasn’t an ounce of respect in my words, but they didn’t make a big deal of it. 

“Cato got a bit overexcited.” Frigga said, “I’m sorry if he made you worry.” 

Aspen held up a hand, cutting off Frigga’s explination as politely as possible. “Because your lady saved my life, I have ordered my hunters to forfeit if they are pitted against her. You will have all of the Woodlands on your side. We are the majority of the competition and I will not see my new friend hung come tourney’s end.” 

The Heart-eater clinked her glass against Frigga’s. 

“I’ll have time to heal, today I go against a woodland hunter and I need only ride out for them to take the knee. Cato ‘s been bringing everyone by to hear the news. Callum’s three seconds away from kicking us out but the woodlanders keep bribing him with tobacco.” Her voice was full of hope, and she seemed herself again. 

I had wine instead of breakfast, chasing down the spirits of the night before. It was the nicest rude awakening I’d ever experienced. I stayed and offered my congratulations for as long as I could, but once the tournament started up Callum’s patients began to pile up. Things were really going to get brutal. 

The tournament goers parted ways when they saw me and Cato, many of those waiting were Woodland Hunters. Being in Frigga’s unit was like being royalty now and we got to slip right past the peasants. It didn’t take long to locate the others, they were surrounded by a sea of mossy cloaks. 

“Can you believe this?” Imogen asked as I took a seat next to her, “Queen Aspen’s got her whole alliance protecting us.” 

“You don’t think it’s overkill?” I asked. 

She shook her head. 

“It’s not like Minimus is going to be particularly happy about this kind of victory.” Cato said as he took his seat beside me, “He was probably really pleased to see that Frigga was going up against the Heart-Eater. He never would’ve expected a victory let alone so much mutual respect. I wouldn’t put it past him to send out assassins.” 

“That’s a bit paranoid.” Imogen said, “But I suppose it can’t hurt to be a bit careful. Having the Woodlanders on your side is much better than having them on the enemy’s.” 

The afternoon was spent pleasantly. Our new friends were eager to get anything we wanted, coins came out of never-empty pockets. There was a small ordeal when the Altered Boys came to sit with us, someone thought they were there to attack. A quick stare from Anwen stopped the fight before it ever started and the boys were treated with the same respect we had been. 

The massive torrent of rain from the day before had stopped and the battleground was dampened but it was equal footing for all once more. With the previous days overwhelming woodland hunter victories and mass amounts of forfeiting the matches of the day were awe-inspiring. The hunters that competed were the ones who truly wanted to win. They were hunters with a vengeance and as the herald told of their tales it was clear that Vilebloods had taken a great deal from them in the past. They wanted Minimus to notice them. 

I had yet to see Minimus compete, everyone who he was supposed to compete with never showed up. They didn’t take the knee and forfeit they just never arrived. Rumors had been circulating about it, church-sponsored assassins had been known to rig a tournament or two before but it was never this obvious. There was no subtly in it. The Abbot didn’t even bring a weapon with him, or wear his armor he just took the field in his red and black robes. He knew that no one was going to oppose him; he’d made the bracket himself. He was using all of his power to advance himself to the finals. Once he was there no amount of interference would be able to keep him and Frigga from fighting. Unless she was defeated before them, the two would be forced to duel each other. Frigga wouldn’t and couldn’t take the knee, a thing done by Minimus’ own hand. 

I hoped that when they fought each other, (despite the odds it did feel like a when and not an if) Frigga would be able to knock him to the ground. I wanted it to be swift and decisive like Fwahe and Juliana’s battle had been. 

When Frigga took the field that day the crowd roared for her. They were caught up in her redemption story now and they’d seen her defeat a Queen. She was already a lot of people’s champion. The younger denizens would play at being her, and a lot of the young girls braided silver ribbons in their hair to show support. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” The herald began. He was trying to regain control of the rowdy crowd. He held up his hands for silence. He stopped and started and repeated himself waiting for the din to die down. It took a very long time, the herald crossed his arms; waiting. Despite his attitude towards Frigga he was obligated to give the crowd what they wanted. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce the huntress condemned and redeemed, undefeated in this tournament. Her victories shocked and surprised us, as did her amity towards the opponents she felled. This huntress, my friends, has saved the life of the Woodland Queen. She rides into the arena, virtually unchallenged on a spirited war mare, perhaps the last of the warhorses of old. She fights in good health and in bad, fearless and fast to action. She’s had her body and weapons broken and it has yet to slow her. Ladies and Gentlemen I implore you to salute, he people’s champion, honorary noblewoman of the woods, defender of the down trodden, Miss Frigga Hemlock!” 

Frigga took the field. She was wearing her full plate armor and she had her cane with her, despite assurances from Aspen that the Woodlanders would take the knee. She wasn’t going to take any short cuts or unnecessary risks. All the same, there was a jovial air about her. Frigga wasn’t wearing the lioness helm. Some of the woodland girls had begged to do her hair, they’d braided it with light blue ribbons and tiny silver bells that jingled as Swift trotted across the ground. She was smiling and there wasn’t the usual pre-battle tension in the air. 

The herald waited for the crowd to quiet before he announced her opponent. “And challenging the popular Miss Hemlock today, coming off a stunning showing in the mud and the rain is a Woodlander of moderate renown. The small spitfire rose through the ranks of the Confederates, who dominate much of the western woods. Organized and calculating, what this little hunter loses in size she makes up for in strategy. She had to teach herself to survive after being abandoned when Yharnam fell, and as a mere child no less. The Woodlander’s spirited her away, taught her all their tricks and she’s come back to seek glory and prove her worth, as though her past two victories were not plenty of evidence for her case, she now carries on! My friends I give you the resourceful, the yet-to-be-felled, Miss Jawbreaker of the Western Woods!” 

The huntress came out on foot, dressed in simple street clothes, shirt and suspenders. I would’ve mistaken her for a city hunter if I hadn’t looked closer. The indication to her Woodland alliances was evident by two small antlers lodged in her hunter’s hat. Jawbreaker kept her cap pulled in front of her face, I couldn’t see her features. She strode forward and met Frigga mid-field. We watched as she dropped onto one knee and placed her battle axe on the ground. The crowd cheered and Frigga smiled, happy to accept the surrender. Everything had gone according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	18. Chapter the Eighteenth : In Which the Tournament Comes to a Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final results are in. We see how it ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think!

The next few days were gloriously similar. There weren’t any defectors they all took the knee as planned. Frigga even had the good fortune to be paired up with Fwahe, who forfeited as well. We all knew that these blissful days wouldn’t last much longer. The woodlanders dropping out like flies to advance Frigga forward left them without any representation in the final few matches. All their sacrifice did not go to waste, Frigga made the final four. In addition to her were the undefeated Rochambeau, a church hunter called Kaine who had a grudge against the Altered Boy’s, and lastly of course The Abbot. Kaine would not be won to our cause though we’d attempted to bargain with him and Rochambeau. Roch was a little more receptive towards what we had to say but he wanted to fight, his allies needed blood. We couldn’t promise him a supply anymore, so we were unable to secure an alliance. 

Rochambeau was seeded to square off against Frigga and Kaine would go against Minimus. The little bastard would probably forfeit too. For these semi-final rounds, every seat in the stadium was occupied. People begged to take the places of the vendors just so they could get in, promising to sell every unit of their wares. It was madness. 

Frigga and Roch were going to go head to head first. The herald rode out to announce them, but before he could reach mid-field he was stopped. Someone had come running out alongside him, a mess of orange hair and black and red robes. What was Templeton doing on the field? 

The herald tried to shoo her away, poking her with his trumpet. His pony snorted and stamped it’s hooves at her but she held firm. The next time he tried to push her away with his trumpet she latched onto it and yanked it out of his grasp. Before the herald regained his composure she placed the trumpet against her lips, amplifying her speech for all to hear. 

“Sorry!” She began glancing hesitantly towards the enraged herald. “S-sorry to interrupt things…but what I have to say is important.” 

People in the crowd cursed at her. She seemed to flinch at every word but her legs were locked and she didn’t appear to be backing down. 

“The fuck is she doing out there?” Cato asked. I shrugged in response. 

“S-sorry…so-sorry I know you’re really eager to get on with today’s matches, but I have to say this, I’ve been trying too before. Y-You all have to listen to me. I know the tournament is exciting, but all of the hunters have to leave right now! This whole tournament is a trick.” 

The herald had regained his senses and was trying to get back his trumpet. “This is complete nonsense.” He said, “Ladies and Gentlemen she must be drunk or dazed. You know how some women can get at the sight of blood.” 

Templeton’s entire face screwed up and she fixed the herald with the most furious glare I’d ever seen her make. He was stronger than her still, and now that he had his trumpet back he would suffer no more surprise attacks. 

She’d said enough to stir curiosity throughout the crowd. The curiosity ran deep enough in some to warrant vocalization. 

“Let her fucking speak!” Cato shouted. 

The call was taken up around the arena, although most left the swearing out. They began to chant it, all but shaking the stadium as they stomped feet and pounded fists. The herald had to fulfill his obligations to the crowd and begrudgingly handed the speech amplifier over to Templeton. 

I glanced around the arena, trying to get a sense of what the crowd was thinking. Instead of confused faces, my eyes were drawn to the Lord’s Box. There was a flurry of activity, red and black robes spilling out of all sides. Whatever she was saying they did not approve. 

“T-thank you.” Templeton continued, “O..our Abbot Minimus has betrayed us. Please believe me. He’s betrayed all of you, and what he’s doing at Mensis is insane. He’s b-building an army of beasts!” 

Her accusations echoed throughout the arena and was met with a lot of shouting and opposition. 

“I have p-proof of it all!” Templeton shouted trying to regain control of her audience, “Just let-“ 

Her words were cut short and for a moment, none of us knew why. Then we heard the shining silver throwing knife hit the ground. We saw blood spring from a slash on Tempelton’s throat, a perfect shot. She kept trying to speak, astonished when words wouldn’t come out. Everything was red. She was losing her balance, her legs were shaking. She took a staggering step back and started to cough. The sickening sound reverberated throughout the stadium, bubbling crimson with blood. 

“MEDIC!” Frigga shouted, taking to the field. She struggled to free herself from the saddle. Rochambeau lifted her out effortlessly and Frigga laid Templeton down. She pressed her hands against the gaping cut, coating them vibrant red as she attempted to hold it closed. 

Templeton wheezed, trying to communicate. The only thing she managed to verbalize was a choking “I’m sorry.” 

“Shh.” Frigga said, “Shh, don’t try and talk Temp. It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re going to be ok.” 

I saw the diamond sparkle of tears as they left Frigga’s eyes. 

Callum was on the field not two seconds later, he pushed Frigga’s hands away trying to get a look at the wound. 

Denizens were fleeing, spilling out of the arena at all exits shouting about assassins. I was too stunned to follow them. Anwen took me by the collar and all but hauled me over the wall, down onto the field. The others were with her and we moved as close as we dared. 

“I need another medic- get me a church healer! Get me someone!” Callum shouted. He had his fingers in the wound, pinching closed the artery that had been severed. He was trying to keep the rest of Templeton’s blood from spilling. 

No one made a move to help him. 

“Sons of bitches!” Callum shouted into the crowd, “She’s dying goddamnit!” 

There was still no movement. I looked around and found that all of the entrances were now blocked by Minimus’ Police. No one was going to challenge them. Everyone had fled and no one new could come in. 

“What do you need?” Frigga asked Callum desperately, “Whatever it is I’ll do it.” 

He passed the artery off to her and we watched, standing hands at our sides, useless. Cato’s eyes strayed. They found the silver throwing knife and he stooped to pick it up. His face clouded with anger and he glanced back up into the stands, to the Lord’s Box. There was only one occupant, standing in the center of the box with his hood pulled over his head. 

“You son of a bitch!” Cato shouted hurling the knife towards the onlooker with all his strength. The projectile didn’t meet its mark but it came close enough to get the hooded hunter to dodge. The cloth slipped away and revealed Templeton’s assailant. As soon as we saw, his betrayal hit us all the harder. Looking down at us from above was Barristan. 

Cato ran for the stairs but the red and black robed lackeys blocked his way. We were trapped. 

“Fuck.” Callum was muttering under his breath as he tried to get the blood to stop. It wouldn’t. His apron was drenched. 

The twins held each other’s hands and tried to stiffen up and be strong. 

“Can you give her a transfusion?” Frigga asked searching her mind for previous medical marvels. Something, anything that might help, no matter how far-fetched. 

“No it’s too late for that, there’s nothing I can do. Whatever we gave her would spill out, No one can stitch that up fast enough, you’d need six decent surgeons just to have a shot at it.” Callum muttered. His eyes were wide, and even as he talked about the impossibility of saving our scholar his hands never ceased trying to save her. “I can’t sew that fast, I’m not that good. I’m just fucking not.” 

“S-s..” Templeton tried to choke out one more apology. 

Frigga, shaking and sobbing kissed the fast-fading scholar on the forehead. Her skin was ice. “It’s ok. Really it’s ok.” She whispered. 

Templeton was gone. 

The ground was soaked. Cato’s clothing and Frigga’s armor were stained red. She was shaking too much to take the body off the field. We couldn’t use the horse either. Swift was too spooked, after the scent of blood filled her nostrils she wouldn’t let anyone near her. 

Templeton’s bruises looked all the more brutal now that her skin was porcelain. Her orange hair, so matted with blood no longer stuck out in curls and spikes but clung downward in clumps, almost brushed, almost intentional. Anwen would’ve carried her away, but Frigga needed someone to learn on. It was Rochambeau in the end who got her off the field. 

We had to wait, stared down by Minimus’ guards at the exit. They stood solid, an unyielding wall ready to hold us back and keep us from freedom. Our Woodland allies were gone. We had nothing to fight them with. 

“Please.” She had choked it out so softly and faintly I couldn’t believe it was Frigga who’d said it. She was drowning in despair, “Please just let us through. We won’t be any trouble, just please let us out.” 

Hearing her beg like that infuriated me. It shocked the police, she’d never begged for anything before. The braggarts weren’t stunned long, they were back to saying rude things in moments, adding insults to injury. All the same they parted to let us pass. Fwahe was waiting for us outside, standing at the ready, to congratulate Frigga on her latest victory. Her whole demeanor changed when she saw us come out, heads hung. 

“What happened?” She asked bounding over to us. 

Frigga shook her head, she couldn’t talk about it. Fwahe saw the blood on her hands and the tears in her eyes, her brain racing to connect everything. Rochambeau lowered Templeton’s body down so that Fwahe could see. The lone hunter’s mismatched eyes took a second to recognize the tiny scholar. All of the puzzle pieces fell into place. 

“Oh.” She said softly, understanding us now. 

Callum ran his hands through his hair, streaking it red with blood, “I couldn’t save this one.” 

“Oh.” Fwahe said again. She laid her arm across Frigga’s shoulders, trying to comfort her. 

We kept walking, directionless. I wondered if the hunters were the type to burn bodies or if Templeton would end up chained in the darkness of a coffin. Something like the ones I’d seen on the lawns of the manors when we were heading towards the hideout for the first time. I didn’t want her to be trapped like that. She should’ve been laid to rest beneath the library, or in the courtyard outside it. 

She belonged there. Templeton and the library were gone now and I wondered how much longer we were going to last without the both of them. 

We ended up at Callum’s tent, he started tending to the body and doing everything in his power to make Templeton look herself again. The neck he hadn’t been able to hold shut when it mattered was now tied down with meticulously applied stitches. Frigga took up a washcloth and carefully worked the caked blood out of every last ringlet in Templeton’s hair. If only there was something that could be done for the bruises. They’d never heal before decaying. 

Fwahe was Frigga’s shadow throughout the ordeal. The lone hunter wouldn’t leave our patron’s side. She understood the gravity of the loss, even without a particular attachment to the victim. 

It was decided that we couldn’t bury her in the same robes that her killer wore. The extra clothing I’d taken for Frigga ended up being used for Templeton. It was similar to what she preferred to wear anyway. We all left the tent as Salem and Imogen helped Frigga change her clothes. 

When we came back it seemed as though Templeton had just fallen asleep. 

Another late night. 

Too much time spent reading. 

They’d buttoned her shirt up to the collar. 

They didn’t want anyone to see the scars. 

All around us chaos raged. We were the calm center in the middle of a hurricane. We were the eye of the storm. Whatever control the hunters had, whatever peace was kept between groups evaporated. Everyone was at each other’s throats. Some wanted Minimus dead, some wanted to join him. A lot of them probably hadn’t believed what Templeton had said before she perished. That always seemed to be the way of things, no one got famous before they died. 

I wished I had let her teach me to read, she would’ve liked it. 

Crowds came running by, there was the sharp sound of blades being drawn. There were screams and cursing. I knew the denizens were terrified, they wouldn’t understand. An assassin for Minimus’ order, that’s who I’d trusted. So far I was the only survivor of his attacks. 

Cato declared shortly after seeing Templeton laid out in fresh clothes that he couldn’t stand the smell of death. He went outside. He sat on the grass outside the tent and sobbed. 

We could hear him. 

It wasn’t quiet. 

Nothing was quiet. 

If anything Templeton warranted a somber profound funeral. Someone should give the person who loved words so much a proper speech but the world refused to stop for us. There was no hushed moment we could seize. 

We looked at each other, needing someone to say something. We begged words to fall from each other’s lips, but our own were dry and barren, at a loss. 

“Hands that hold pens shouldn’t need to also hold hilts.” 

It had been Fwahe who broke the silence and she summed our feelings up entirely. Templeton was destined for a death like this; she’d been born to a world that chose small things like her as ideal prey. For all efforts we hadn’t been able to keep the beast at bay forever. Fwahe’s words echoed in my head, the morbid truth of them was almost painful. If only the start of her life would’ve held off until the hunts had ended. She could’ve done so well. 

“We’ve got to get moving.” Anwen said. Not more than forty minutes could’ve gone by since Templeton had passed. We all knew we’d taken all the time we could, she knew. She knew we wanted more, but there’s no way we could get it. Templeton deserved more, but the world wouldn’t slow. Fwahe placed a hand on Frigga’s shoulder, as though worried she wouldn’t come along. When the moment came she rose. She pulled a fresh white sheet over Templeton’s body and that was the last any of us would ever see of our beloved scholar. 

Outside the world had gone mad. The grass had been pounded down by boots, fleeing in all directions. Tents were hastily ripped down, merchants left their goods behind. I could smell smoke and fire; no doubt a toppled lantern or two had been caused by the panicked tournament-goers. I hoped it wouldn’t spread to the forest. The last thing we needed was another fire. 

“We’ve got to find Swift.” Piebald said to me, “There’s no way Frigga’s going to make it out of here on a bad leg.” 

I nodded at him. Despite his sensible suggestion and having an objective to complete I still had no idea where to start. All of the landmarks, save the arena had been torn down or toppled over. I couldn’t get my bearings. I could hardly see over the torrents of people. Anwen and Rochambeau got us our heading, but the big-mace wielder broke off when he believed to have spotted his own clan. Pushing backwards through the crowd without him was a much bigger challenge. Anwen took the lion’s share of blows and bashes from people desperate to get around her. Cato and Frigga were in the middle of our pack, the rest of us surrounded them, letting them lean on each other and keeping to the pace they set. Neither one would be lost this day. 

I was on constant alert for Barristan. I expected him to be everywhere but he wasn’t. He’d disappeared again, vanished like a wisp of smoke. Minimus had not performed the same feat of magic; he could be seen standing at the top of the arena looking down, away from the fighting pit and onto the grounds. He was yelling something, trying to gain control of the crowd. They weren’t listening. He was bordered by a few of his policemen but they seemed to be in smaller force than usual. 

Every few feet we passed someone who’d been trampled. Callum stopped to assist many of them, disappearing suddenly and then returning at our side if needed. His apron got worse and worse, the smell of blood surrounded him, coppery and nauseating. Fwahe stuck to our circle for a little while but she wasn’t satisfied to stay behind Anwen and avoid all of those who stormed past her. She danced from foot to foot trying to not let her impatience show. Frigga and Cato weren’t moving quickly enough for her. She broke away from us without word, bobbing and weaving through the crowd. She didn’t stray far and her antlers made her easy to locate. Anwen noted her and followed the loner’s lead, it felt better than just guessing. It was possible Fwahe was a proficient tracker. It was possible she knew where the horse had gone. 

It was also possible she just deduced the most likely option and led us to the stables. That could’ve been it as well. There weren’t huge crowds trying to break down the wooden doors and save their horses no matter how valuable the creatures might be. There were a half dozen mounts inside but none of them were silver, none of them were Swift. 

“She’s a clever horse, she wouldn’t have come here.” Piebald said after his third scan of the area with no sign of our mare. 

“All the same we ought to make use of what we do have.” Beetle assessed, “Let’s get Cato and Frigga horses. Pie, you and I will take two as well. Can any of the rest ride?” 

He looked back at us, scanning for a sign of the affirmative. Sage and Salem stepped forward, and I was grateful for it. No one here needed to see my nonexistent horsemanship. 

Anwen helped Frigga onto a white stallion; it seemed to be the calmest of the lot. Without time and supplies, Cato couldn’t modify a saddle for her and her injured leg bounced against the horses’ side causing both rider and animal discomfort. 

Cato wouldn’t accept anyone’s help. He clambered awkwardly onto the back of a butterscotch-colored horse with white sock-marks around its feet. He tugged at the mane of the creature to pull himself aboard and in turn it snapped at him. It tried to bite him. Cato narrowly avoided losing a chunk of his arm. 

“Don’t pull at it!” Piebald cautioned. He had found his way atop Lafayette’s horse. Beetle had decided to claim Minimus’. The twins both had brown horses with black manes that had been wildly spooked before soft words from Sage and Salem calmed them down. 

“Where are we gonna go?” 

It was Sage who asked the question that was on everybody’s mind. We turned our heads this way and that, seeking an answer from anyone close at hand. It wasn’t as though our collective had a lack of capable leaders but no one seemed ready to step up and answer this one. Anwen remained silent. Fwahe didn’t have any sort of strange remark. Frigga didn’t attempt to assess the situation. 

Finally, Salem responded. “I don’t know Sage. I don’t think anybody knows.” 

“Well staying here is all but signing the death warrant so you best be on your way.” Callum advised. 

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Imogen asked. 

“I think I’d be of more use here, after things cool down their going to need someone to mop up the mess and tend to the wounds. I don’t think Minimus is going to stick around and volunteer.” He replied. 

“You could get hurt though, and besides we need someone to make sure Frigga is healing properly.” Imogen argued. 

Callum paused and gave the matter some thought, “I’ve been a field medic since the Cainhurst massacre. I survived that and I can survive this. Even with your lack of medical experience it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to make sure a wound is healing properly. It’s not like anyone would take my advice if I did come along. My place is here.” 

Imogen gave him a reluctant nod, satisfied with the explanation though hesitant to lose another member of our group of survivors. 

“Larkspur will let you all recover at the clinic.” Beetle said, “I’m sure of it. You took care of us, we shall do the same for you.” 

Frigga seemed like she wanted to protest this, but didn’t have the will to do so. At least it was somewhere to go. At least it was a direction. We opened the doors and began to head away from the confusion. At first I thought that we might try and navigate through the woods, I was fairly certain that despite injuries, we would be able to handle the serpent people. We did not turn towards the trees but instead continued forward towards the worn brick path, already clogged. 

“Shouldn’t we try and avoid the masses?” I called up to Cato who was riding beside me. 

“Fuck if I know.” He mumbled back. He was having a difficult time trying to get his horse to listen to him. They didn’t trust each other, and Cato wasn’t in a receptive enough mood to attend Piebald’s directions. 

Frigga halted her horse before we had reached the outer edge of the crowd. We all came to a stop behind her. 

“It might be a good idea to disguise ourselves.” She said, “We’re allies to some but targets to most. Search the dead for hats, helms, hoods something that will change our appearance. I’ll need a robe to cover this armor.” 

I struck out at once. It wasn’t the first time I’d stolen a dead man’s possession. The way things looked now it didn’t seem like this would be the last either. I managed to pry a few face-concealing caps from corpses. Church hunters had a strange sense of head wear and it was popular in some factions to conceal one’s face. The Choir Hunters were typically the ones hiding their visages believing that it made them more humble. They said they refused to have anyone except Kosm grant them eyes. 

I had suspected them of being blind before but now holding their caps in my hand I could see it was just a clever trick of filigree that made it seem as though they hadn’t any way to view the world outside. Their vision was hardly impeded. 

I knew I could’ve taken one of their robes as well; it would have been rather an easy task. No one was paying attention to us. I spent a few seconds trying to steel my nerves but in the end I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It felt kind of sick to be undressing a dead person. I know the girls had done it with Templeton, if it had been just me in there I would’ve let her be laid to rest in the church robes. I decided to lie and say I couldn’t find anything as I scrambled back towards Frigga and the lot. 

Everyone else had brought back robes, so I wasn’t even called upon to make an excuse. We donned new hats. Some of the ladies tucked their hair into their caps trying to confuse people about their gender. Beetle and Piebald covered their pale bodies with thick fabric. Anwen’s size was a standout but she donned a cloak and kept the hood pulled up. The odd assortment of styles combined with the horses should be enough to throw anyone trying to track us off the trail. I doubted Barristan would be looking to strike again, but I felt safer with my face tucked behind one of the strange choir caps. 

Fwahe refused to change out of her clothes. She wouldn’t take the shoes that Anwen offered her nor one of the extra choir caps I’d toted along. She glared at us when we’d changed ourselves. 

“Alright.” Frigga said when she was satisfied that we’d been disguised enough, “We’re just going to lurk on the outskirts and wait until this dies down. Gaines or Minimus or someone will take control and then they’ll start to file out, nice and orderly. We slip away then, merge with the crowd. Groups of ones and twos, nothing more, we don’t want to seem like a group. We’ll regroup on the road to Yharnam.” 

Hours we waited. Fwahe or Anwen would occasionally have to push away some adversary, but there were no real battles for us. True to Frigga’s word, after the Byrgenwerth hunters had stopped as many scuffles as they could they began to facilitate the evacuation. Gaines’ voice rang out clear and confident over the mob, organizing and giving orders. A slow-moving mass of people began to thread themselves down the bricked trail. Minimus and his gang were nowhere to be seen, nor was Barristan. 

“Beetle, Cato, you two go first.” Frigga said. 

They nodded and set off. The twins went after that, Frigga seemed eager to get rid of those on horseback. They drew more attention. Sage and Salem slowed their mounts pace and hung their heads looking as tired and downtrodden as the horrified denizens that polluted the pathway. Piebald went by himself as did Fwahe and Imogen. Frigga sent me with Anwen, and brought up the rear herself. 

Everyone moved slow, there was no room for your feet to fall. You took a step and waited, took a step and waited. We were a frozen chain reaction, packed too tightly into the small space. Byrgenwerth hunters monitored the edges, trying to keep us moving, protecting us from beasts. They had their cleavers drawn. 

If something attacked it was too far ahead or too far behind for me to take any notice of it. All I seemed to notice were the delays. Things were stopping and starting long after the sun had shone its last. 

It was impossible to be scared during the night when we were all gathered like this. We were hundreds of hunters strong, guided by the wisdom of Byrgenwerth. Nothing gave us trouble, and when the witching hour struck the path opened up, splintering off in three different directions. 

We all met up by the left branch of the path. Most people were continuing along the center, happy to remain in a large group for the rest of the night. I couldn’t stand to be and was relieved that everyone had followed Frigga’s directions. No one had gotten caught in a scuffle and all of the horses seemed to be doing ok. Cato’s had even stopped trying to bite him. 

“To Yharnam then?” Beetle asked once we’d all had a moments rest. 

“Yharnam.” Frigga replied groggily. She was more exhausted then any of us. She probably wanted to be left alone more than any of us, but she bore her burden and continued to act as our leader. Piebald and Beetle led our pack and set the pace. My feet grew tired and sore fast and I thought about asking to switch out with someone on horseback a few times. I never did, the fear of the woods at night was enough to keep me going. I had no desire to re live the night before the library fire again. 

The streets of Yharnam were scattered with beast corpses, no doubt the work of the Altered Boys. It was great that we didn’t have to fight anything but there was also the feeling of having our territory stolen. I didn’t voice that opinion and as we approached the clinic any and all apprehension faded away. Inside was a place to lie down and get off my feet. 

They’d cleaned up a lot more since our last visit. Most of the furniture had been turned to firewood, but all of the rooms were cleared. There were plenty of gurneys and examination tables to sleep on and the welcome security of a locked door. We flopped down on the first beds that we could find and let the waves of exhaustion, so long kept at bay crash over us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	19. Chapter the Nineteenth: In Which we Make Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout from the tournament, and a new plan of action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think!

I woke up freezing. It was just like me to end up picking the draftiest room in the clinic to sleep in. I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and headed back towards the reception area hoping to find more comfort there. I found Frigga instead. 

She was awake and it didn’t seem as though she had slept. The decorations the woodland hunters had worked into her hair were unwinding themselves. Tattered ribbons and dented bells. She was getting a fire going in the cast iron fire pit the Altered Boys had drug into the room. Frigga snapped twigs and sticks, carried in from outside. She built up a pyramid and then struck steel to flint. There were sparks, and then the blaze caught. 

“Good Morning.” I said, waiting until I was sure the fire didn’t need more looking after before I spoke. 

“Morning Sterling.” She replied. Her voice seemed distant. “Did you sleep alright?” 

“Yes.” I said, “It was almost instant. The walk back wore me out.” 

She nodded but didn’t try to keep the conversation going. Everyone gathered in the main room, filing in before too long. The Altered Boys stayed on one side and we kept together on the other. Cato scanned them all looking for Rook. “

Hello Cato.” The dark-haired boy said sheepishly. I

t drew Cato’s attention instantly and he locked eyes with the Altered Boy. “It’s really you this time, isn’t it?” He asked. Rook nodded. Cato pushed past us all and pulled Rook into a tight embrace. Cato’s hands gripped Rook tightly, until his knuckles became as pale as the boy’s skin. “I missed you.” 

They stayed that way for a while, until Cato’s shoulders shook and we could hear him crying. Rook was mortified that the sadness were his fault. He peppered Cato’s cheeks with kisses trying to stem the flow of tears. He couldn’t stop saying sorry. He was sorry he forgot, sorry that he’d let the church get to him. 

Frigga let them enjoy their reunion for as long as she could stand it. I could sense her holding off, but she spoke before too much longer, “Thank you very much for letting us stay.” 

“It’s nothing.” Larkspur replied, “You and your Valkyries will always be given shelter here.” 

All the same we’ve got to move on. This is the first place that Minimus will come looking for me, as I suppose I’m now a fugitive and a runaway. I have no intention of returning to the asylum, so we must be on our way.” 

“Where will you go?” Rook asked. 

“We have to go to the one place that has a chance of sheltering us against a horde of Minimus’ followers. Our only chance is to seek and alliance with the Vileblood Queen, Annalise. We’ll have to journey to Cainhurst Castle.” 

“Are you out of your mind?” Sage asked, “Everyone knows the place is crawling with beasts, beasts of the worst kind. We’ll be cut down before we reach the gates.” 

“Vilebloods aren’t like other beasts.” Fwahe said, “They’ve still got their wits about them.” 

“Well wits or not, their brains are blood-addled.” Cato replied, “And you all seem to be forgetting the biggest problem; they eat hunters. I don’t know about you but I’m not all too eager to become dinner for …“ 

“I understand your concerns.” Frigga said quickly cutting him off, “But you have to understand we don’t have another option. Everywhere else they will debate turning us in and we cannot count on every hunter in every group to stay true to their leaders command. We cannot ask the woodlands to shelter us, for they would come under attack and I’m sure there are those among them who would turn us in to save themselves. The only place with no possible ties to Minimus is Cainhurst. You all supported me through the tournament and followed me away. You went to battle with me before then, did you not trust me then? Do you not trust me now?” 

“Yeah, yeah, majesty, we trust you.” Cato said, “It’s the Vilebloods I got doubts about.” 

“I have them as well.” Frigga said, “And if you do not wish to go speak now and stay behind. I will have no more traitors in my midst.” 

Not a one of us spoke up. No one wanted to be thrown in with Barristan’s lot. 

“Very well then. We shall set out shortly.” 

“During the day?” Imogen asked. 

“During the day we won’t stand out as anyone but denizens.” Frigga replied, “We have to go unnoticed, concealed weapons and simple clothing. We can take one of the horses with us, but I fear bringing more will draw attention. It can be loaded up with our weapons and supplies, come nightfall we shall hunt if we need too.” 

“Please can’t you stay just one more night?” Rook asked. He was looking at Frigga when he said it but we all knew he was talking about Cato. “I…I mean we…It…we…we just have so much to talk about.” 

Frigga gave him a sympathetic smile, “I am happy to see that your brain is your own once again. It is good to know that you’ve recovered, but all the same we can’t afford to stay.” 

I knew she was right about that. Minimus wouldn’t take long to regroup and he’d hunted us down at the clinic the same night we’d taken refuge. I didn’t want to go through another capture and carriage ride. No one would think our lives worth re-buying if we kept getting into situations of a similar nature. We had to break our cycles of ceaseless repetition, and staying comfortable too long wasn’t going to do anything to help. 

“Then let me come with you.” Rook pleaded. 

"It’s safer if you just stay here.” Cato said. 

“I don’t care about it being safe.” Rook muttered. 

“We don’t want to overwhelm the Queen.” Frigga replied, “Having to explain your affiliation with us and more specifically with Cato could alter the outcome of her choice. Not everyone agrees with us on matters of the heart and it’s too much of a risk to try and gamble for her favor on that as well. We need to survive Rook, and I have to prioritize my hunter’s lives over their happiness.” 

Rook nodded his understanding. 

“I could stay, I mean if you wanted me too. I could stay, right majesty?” Cato asked 

Frigga nodded, “If that is what you want.” 

“No.” Rook said, shaking his head violently. “Your place isn’t here with me, you’d go crazy if you couldn’t be with your clan. All you’d do is sit around and mope. You’ve got to go, and then you’ve got to come back. Promise me you’re going to come back.” 

Cato promised. 

We broke off, both to pack supplies and let Rook and Cato have a little bit of time to themselves. It wasn’t much time, because we hadn’t much to pack. None of us had really grabbed supplies. 

Cypress helped me to locate some food suitable for traveling and what few blood vials the Boys could spare. I didn’t know the distance to Cainhurst but I hoped this would be enough to get us there. 

“It’s not going to be an easy journey.” Fwahe cautioned us as we began to pile our things up in the main room, “And Cainhurst isn’t as safe a place as you make it seem.” 

We ignored her protests spurred on by fear of Minimus’ police. Surely the Abbot would’ve gained some authority by now and would be searching for us. The Altered Boys sent Rook up to the roof to keep a look out. Cato followed him, stealing every second he could. They hadn’t been gone more than five minutes before they came running back into the room. 

“Fuck rations we gotta move!” Cato shouted, “There’s a horde of them coming after us, maybe thirty or forty strong. Their coming straight through the streets, it looks like they’ve been painted black. We think that Minimus is leading them, it’s too far too tell but whoever is they got Swift.” 

We didn’t need orders at that point, we grabbed what we could and finished tying knots around the packs on our horse. It was one of the brown ones, the least noticeable. Packs on our shoulders and weapons bundled, concealed and useless we left the clinic. Frigga was nestled in amongst the baggage, sporting another makeshift saddle from Cato. He’d been lucky the Altered Boys hadn’t thrown out any of the arm and leg braces they’d uncovered. It wasn’t quite as sturdy as the one put together at Hemwick Charnel Lane, but it would have to do. There was no time for goodbyes or well wishes. 

Although Frigga had tried to reason with Fwahe, insisting her cleric beast cape would be a dead giveaway to our position she hadn’t been able to get the loner to change. She bobbed and weaved her way through the crowd, intending for us to follow but as soon as the denizens caught sight of her they mistook Fwahe for a beast. Some of them started screaming, others ran for cover. 

“No, no.” Fwahe mumbled after them, “I’m not a beast” 

They didn’t stop to listen to her. The screaming was sure to attract the police’s attention, so much for sneaking away unnoticed. They’d be on us in seconds. We navigated the streets quickly, having a clear path and an easy mark to follow. Fwahe’s antlers cleared the crowds ahead of us and if we lost sight of her it was easy to keep eyes on Frigga. 

“They’ve spotted us!” Cato shouted as we turned down a narrow alleyway. He was struggling to keep up, coughing more often than breathing. 

We heard the thunder of hoof beats and the shouting of orders. They were closing in on us, strategizing. 

“He’s probably going to split his forces, try and corner us. We’ve got to be faster than he is.” Frigga replied. 

“Majesty I don’t know that that is going to be possible.” Cato wheezed. 

“It’s going to have to be.” Frigga replied, “Keep up or get killed.” 

I was taken aback from the lack of sympathy. Frigga was on a horse she could set whatever pace she wanted. All the same she had a better grasp on Cato’s abilities then I did. The dark haired hunter bent his head down and though he seemed like he might drop behind any moment he never did. He kept pace. 

“Treason! Betrayal!” The cries of Minimus’ police thundered behind us, they were closing in. 

“Twins, Anwen loose them!” Frigga shouted. “But stay close! I don’t want to lose anyone else.” 

Our companions broke off to the side, margining with the fleeing crowds. Their weapons were still strapped down to Frigga’s mount, they had only a few throwing knives to stave off the assault with. Frigga turned her horse sharply and we crashed down into the market. 

“Block our path!” Frigga shouted down to us, “use anything.” 

As we sprinted through the maze of vendors we wrenched barrels of wine and casks of ale from their owners tossing them behind us. We pushed over carts and pulled any nearby ropes, flattening tents. Frigga’s horse was able to plow through freely but the slipshod barricades staggered the police’s pace. I had lost eyes on Anwen and the twins but I hoped they wouldn’t be held back by our barricades. 

If they were taking out Minimus’ forces I couldn’t tell. The screams of denizens and the sound of wood splintering drowned out any cries of death or pain that my fellow Valkyries might be causing. At the same time if they were shouting for help we wouldn’t know. It was terrifying. 

I heard a sharp buzzing sound and an arrow embedded itself a few centimeters above my hand, burying itself into the wooden barrel I was holding. The loud pops of guns and the sharp wheeze of bullets filled the air. 

“Firing…at us.” Cato panted helping me tip the barrel over before continuing on our run. 

“We can’t lose them Frigga, we’re not fast enough!” I shouted, ducking my head just in time to dodge another arrow. 

I was sure we were done for, but before our fates were sealed the world behind me exploded in a giant fireball. The twins and Anwen had come through, they were sprinting back towards us throwing Molotov cocktails in their wake, igniting our haphazard barricades. I hoped the denizens had gotten enough chance to clear out, within minutes the whole market was going up in smoke. 

“I guess we can add arson to our list of offenses.” Imogen said, racing along behind me. 

The fire at market street blazed, spreading but not fast enough to catch up to us. We left it behind along with the police force. We kept on running, and didn’t stop until we’d hit the great city gates which had been sealed shut. It took a bit of lock picking and the combined strength of everyone to wedge the wooden behemoth open wide enough for Frigga’s horse but we got through. Once safely on the other side Cato collapsed in the dirt trail sucking in air, chest heaving. 

“Couldn’t you….have just….bloody changed out of….Veera’s skin?” He panted to Fwahe. 

She shrugged her shoulders, “Didn’t want to.” 

“Ok…so citywide panic is better…then new clothes. Noted.” 

“Quit trying to be clever and rest up.” Frigga said, “We still have far to go and fire won’t keep them from following.” 

She rooted around in one of the packs and took out a blood vial. She passed it to Cato and the exhausted hunter gratefully accepted. Imogen passed a canteen full of water around to the rest of us. 

“Do you think the Woodland Hunters might be able to shelter us for a night?” Imogen asked. 

“It doesn’t matter if they can or can’t. I won’t endanger another clan for our sake.” Frigga replied grimly, “The Altered Boys had enough trouble to begin with. If the Woodland clans were to start siding with us there’s a chance war would break out. Hunters need to fight beasts, not each other.” 

We sat there, regaining out strength for a while. Cato’s breathing evened out. Imogen checked her throwing knives, making sure they were sharp and slid smoothly out of their sheaths. Frigga could’ve gotten us back on the move but she was stalling too. We were giving Anwen and the twins every second we could to reunite with us. We waited as long as we dared, but the sun was going down and the policemen were still on the hunt. 

“They’ll just have to catch up.” Frigga sighed, “We can’t afford to lose any more time.” 

We were all in agreement. Frigga started down the dirt path and we fell in line behind. The pace was no more than a brisk walk but I could feel the resistance in my feet. Begging for five more minutes rest, always wanting more than I could give. We trudged on, and my thoughts strayed. I could feel my head getting heavier, even as my feet continued to propel me forward. I was constantly jerking my head back and forth trying to shake away the sleep and stay alert. 

The dirt road we were on seemed to be headed towards the woods, the very same ones I had been led astray into. Woods full of serpent people. The giant gravestones loomed between the trees casting patches of extreme darkness. I detested the insecurity of these shadows, anything could overpower us here. 

“Don’t you think we ought to have a candle or something?” I asked as we continued further into the woods. 

“That will let them know exactly where we are. Great idea.” Fwahe growled in response. The more ground we gained on Cainhurst the shorter her temper became. She was bounding forward, taking out enemies we had yet to see, and complaining we were moving too slow. She made for a very poor traveling companion but the lone huntress was the only one amongst us to do any hunting. 

Her eyes, mismatched and unsettling must’ve been hard-wired for seeing in the dark. I hadn’t heard hissing or seen the terrifying silhouette of so much as one beast, but we passed the corpses Fwahe left behind, reminding us that the woods were not safe. 

I expected danger to come dropping down from the trees or rushing in from the shadows. I did not expect danger to result from not looking where I was going. In the darkness I hadn’t noticed that I was walking along the edge of a steep hill. I had turned to grab some water from my pack, and as I searched, not looking in front of me I found that the ground had disappeared and I was falling through the cold dark air. 

I was caught up in the sheer stupidity of my mistakes so much that I didn’t call out for help. I didn’t try to maneuver into a better landing position I just crashed down the side of the hill, rolling and churning up clumps of grass and rotted roots. When momentum ran out and I came to a stop, I found myself mere inches from the largest snake I’d ever seen. 

Its body was as big around as one of the massive tree trunks we’d passed, coiled in on itself in a dizzying arrangement of knots. At times I thought it had one massive head, but the next second it would seem to have multiples. My head was spinning, I couldn’t tell what was a result of dizziness from the fall and what was alive and well before my eyes. Regardless of headcount I was in trouble. 

“Sterling!” The call came, sounding far- off and distant, “Sterling are you ok!” 

I didn’t want to shout back. The giant snake appeared to be sleeping and I feared that loud noises or sudden movements might wake it. I didn’t see how the noise from my headlong tumble wouldn’t rouse it. 

“Sterling where the fuck are you?!” 

That one was Cato. 

I had to make a move or their attempt to save me was going to cause my death. I started to scoot further away from the snake, sliding along the hillside. Every rustling blade of grass and shifting pile of soil sounded like an earthquake. I couldn’t believe how loud these things felt. I looked up over my shoulder seeking out a handhold or outcropping, some way back up the hill. 

I discovered some tree roots that seemed sturdy enough. I gave each a few tugs to test them out, and they shifted slightly but held. I wasn’t confident in their stability but there weren’t any other options visible in the darkness. I took a deep breath and grasped a tree root in each hand. I pulled upwards hauling my body along. The roots snapped. 

I crashed back down onto the dirt, this time my momentum threw me back against the scaled snake coils. Dizzy and disoriented though I was there was no lack of clarity about my situation. I was fucked. 

“Down here!” I shouted to my Valkyries as the snake began to stir. “Hurry, please!” 

The undulating coils of the snake started to tighten around me as I attempted to scramble to safety. They were heavy and seemed to never end. I’d get free of one only to become caught up in another. 

“Where is down here!?” I heard someone shout, I thought it was Imogen but I couldn’t tell for certain. 

I didn’t get a chance to answer back, the snake’s enormous head decided to make its move and dug it’s fangs into my shoulder. 

I screamed. 

There were throwing knives tucked into my pockets but the snake had gained the upper hand too quickly. One of its coils was squeezing me tight, pinning my arms to my sides. The more I tried to wriggle free the tighter its hold on me became. 

I heard a clatter of weapons and people as they all came tumbling down the hills. Fwahe’s sword was lit up with that unexplainable arcane glow and I could see it in the distance steadily coming towards me. Frigga must’ve let them all have their arms again. She would be unable to assist, stuck on her horse on the hill. 

The snake’s grip on me grew tighter, there were more and more coils. I could feel them piling up and then cinching closed. My vision started to go hazy. My breath would only come in shallow swallows, and those alone took all my strength and concentration to pull off. I couldn’t even think about fighting. My eyes were starting to go blurry. 

The fangs were suddenly jerked from my shoulder and the snake’s grip relaxed. It took a few moments for enough air to return to me before I made sense of what was going on. 

Fwahe’s sword had distracted the snake. It lunged towards the light, striking at what it could see. I didn’t notice Cato had come down along with the assault until I heard the whir of his saw as the spinning blades came to life. The odd weapon sparked and sputtered before it connected with one of the snake’s coils. It sent up a spray of blood and flesh as he drove it down into the meat of the beast trying to cut through the massive muscle. 

The beast howled in pain, further relaxing its grip on me as it spiraled its head towards Cato, lunging for him. He barely rolled away in time, leaving the snake’s body half-cut and streaming with blood. Fwahe seized her opening and sliced through the scales of the beast. The light emanating from her blade must have enhanced its power. The sharp weapon cut the snake in two as though it had been made of butter. 

The coils around my legs went slack but the main one trapping me hadn’t lost its grip yet. It was still attached to the living part of the snake. 

Once again turned around by the double team attack method the snake struck out towards Frigga. She met it’s jab with her sword, pressing the blade against its bared fangs. 

“Grab the idiot and let’s go!” Fwahe shouted as she rooted her stance and leaned all of her weight into the sword keeping the beast at bay. 

Cato swung the whirligig saw onto his back and began to scamper up the mountain of wriggling coils, some dead, some alive. His hands were slippery with blood and by the time he reached me Fwahe had to take the offensive again. The snake had broken away from her block and was striking at her again. She was nimble and able to dodge its attacks but there wasn’t a lot of room in the snake’s pit. She was going to get cornered sooner or later. 

Cato lent me all of his strength the two of us pressing against the enormous coil breaking it open just wide enough so I could wriggle free. With the weight of the snake off my body, I was free to maneuver. 

“He’s free!” Cato shouted as we descended the massive beast. 

Out of spite more than anything I slammed one of my throwing knives into the open wound Cato’s saw had made as we climbed down past it. Hearing the snake howl in pain sated my hunger for revenge and overwhelmed me with satisfaction. Was this how it felt to be a hunter? 

We hit the ground and I expected to stand and fight, but Cato didn’t grab for his saw. Instead we turned and headed for the hills, leaving Fwahe alone with the beast. 

“She knows what she’s doing.” Cato assured me. 

Frigga and Imogen were waiting for us at the top of the hill. They had used what they had to fashion a rope and hauled us up one by one. I was glad of their help, my shoulder was stinging. 

From atop the hill we could hear the snake’s pained screams and the metallic ringing of Fwahe’s sword. Seconds after Cato had been pulled to the top of the hill she arrived at the bottom. Her glowing sword was drenched with blood and when she was pulled up face to face with us her entire outfit was similarly coated. The white pelt that had once belonged to Sister Veera was now stained a deep red. 

“It’s dead.” She answered, although no one had asked. 

“Were you bit?” Cato asked. 

I nodded and showed him my shoulder wound. He pressed his mouth to the mark and began to suck at it. 

“The hell are you doing?” I asked jerking away from him. 

“Relax Casanova, you’re not my type. I’m trying to suck out the venom. Hold still.” He said spitting out a mix of blood and Kos knows what else. 

This continued for a while. Fwahe cleaned her weapon as best she could, wiping It on some of the damp grass that covered the hilltop. Neither her nor Cato had sustained any wounds from the snake. When Cato was done with my snakebite he tied as clean a cloth as could be found around my shoulder and we continued deeper into the woods. 

“Keep an eye on it.” Imogen cautioned, “We’ll have to monitor it to make sure he sucked all the poison out.” 

“I’ve been told I’m rather excellent when it comes to most tasks requiring the use of my mouth.” Cato said giving Imogen a smug smirk. “Just ask the Heartearter, or any of the others who’ve had the pleasure of witnessing my true talents.” 

“Holding your tongue was never one of them.” She shot back sharply. 

Cato stuck out his tongue at her and grinned. 

“Enough you two.” Frigga said, “You can bicker as much as you like once we’ve made it out of these woods. Keep your heads and keep quiet.” 

The return from a jovial mood to a hunter’s mentality was instant. They dropped the jokes and kept their eyes focused forward, seeking danger at every turn. I was glad to have capable hunters to rely on, although I hated to have added another injury to our tally. Imogen offered to carry my pack for me, wanting to make sure my shoulder would be ok. I consented if only to get her to stop fussing over me. I wish we had brought Callum along. He wouldn’t have babied me half as much and probably had a proper instrument for venom extraction. 

It was ungrateful to think this way. Without Fwahe and Cato jumping into action I would be snake food. I quickly put the rude thoughts out of my head and followed sedately behind the others. I kept my hand in my pocket, resting on the cold metallic handle of a throwing knife. The next time something came at me, I was going to be ready for it. We passed more massive gravestones. Every now and again Imogen or Cato would shoot out their hand and grab my arm, hauling me away from another drop off. I still couldn’t see as much as they could. It got colder as it got later. Frigga wound a scarf around her neck. Cato pulled on a pair of gloves and stopped speaking so much, keeping his breath inside. He was the most exhausted of us all. 

Frigga was always looking over her shoulder. I thought at first that she was worried about losing us in the woods, but her gaze went past us. She was looking further back into the darkness seeking out the twins, seeking Anwen. She didn’t want to lose more Valkyries. 

The more we journeyed on the more concerned with Cato I became. He was struggling to haul his saw along with him. His legs shook and shuttered with every step. Fwahe cleared an area and we stopped to let him rest. He leaned against a tree trunk and let his pack and weapon slide off his shoulders. He took several deep breaths and wiped sweat from his brow. 

I struggled to find something to discuss. Sitting in silence made me nervous. I was extremely tired but the woods wouldn’t be a good place to wait out the night. They wouldn’t even be safe during the day. I was afraid that if we continued like this we would never see Cainhurst. 

With assistance from Fwahe, Frigga dismounted her horse, let it graze and have a rest. The animal seemed to have steeled its nerves and didn’t shy away from monsters once it knew we would dispel them. All the same it lacked the knowledge of impending doom and was starting to grow fatigued. We couldn’t lose the horse, without it we were doomed. 

Imogen seized the opportunity and began to change out the bandage on my shoulder. Fwahe’s blade allowed her to see, using the blue-green illumination to inspect the wound for signs of worsening. It didn’t seem to have changed but she re-cleaned and redressed it to the best of her ability. 

“We need to find a place to rest.” Imogen said. 

Frigga was propped up against a tree stump, massaging her travel-sore legs. Even riding a horse could wear out your muscles. “We don’t know these woods well enough. Minimus and his men do. We can’t stop until we reach Cainhurst or we’re done for.” 

“We’ll never make it at this pace.” Imogen countered, “Cato’s not going to make it. Sterling’s injury could get worse if he’s forced to fight and Fwahe’s energy won’t last forever. We got out of Yharnam, we’ve put miles between us and them.” 

“I know.” Frigga said, “But this isn’t a hunt that Minimus is leading. It’s not like they’re going to be content to chase us off and try again the next night. This is a mob, and they want to kill us. There’s not a doubt in my mind, they were not hesitant to open fire. If they catch us they will kill us and we cannot let them catch us.” 

“But we could afford to let them catch Anwen? Sage and Salem? We could afford to let them catch Scarlett?” She asked. There were tears pooling in her eyes. 

Frigga’s face swelled with sympathy, “I never meant to lose them. “ She took Imogen’s hand in her own and squeezed it tightly. “I never meant to lose them.” 

“Sorry.” Imogen sniffled, “I’m not thinking straight. I didn’t mean to accuse you, they’re not your fault.” 

Frigga pulled her into an embrace, “It’s ok. We’re going to get through this. Anwen and the twins are going to get through this.” 

Even unsure in the middle of the woods with no way of knowing the truth or falseness of her words, she brimmed with confidence. Cato, Fwahe and I turned away and let Imogen and Frigga have their moment. Imogen seemed stronger afterwards. She helped Frigga back onto her horse and we set forth once more. 

Cato stubbornly clung to his saw despite his rapidly depleting energy levels. It wasn’t until the darkness of the night receded and daybreak began that he finally admitted he couldn’t carry it anymore. Frigga assured him it was just as well. The night was fading and the beasts weren’t as active. 

The horse was as tired as we were and set a slow walking pace that we matched easily. Some of the cold began to dissipate, but the sun wasn’t strong enough to truly warm us. We hugged the tree line to avoid the biting wind, unafraid of snakes dropping on us in the daylight. Fwahe stayed huddled in her fur cloak, but continued to resist our attempts to press shoes onto her bare feet; violently proclaiming that socks were the devil. We decided lanterns wouldn’t be too much of a standout and gleaned what warmth that we could from flickering candles. It was enough to keep our fingertips from freezing but nothing more. 

This pattern continued for a few days as we traversed the woods. We passed the dwelling I’d met the strange beggar in. There was debate of sheltering there, but I protested and we ended up leaving it in the dust. It felt good to put it behind me. I didn’t run into any more giant snakes, but we heard plenty of them hissing in the shadows. Going around gravestones always made your heart race. You could never quite tell what was waiting on the other side. 

My shoulder wound healed up nicely, and all of Imogen’s care and attention paid off. The wound went uninfected and soon was forgotten altogether. Cato developed a slight cough and wore two pairs of gloves. He was worried about losing his fingers. We were worried about him running himself into the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	20. Chapter the Twentieth : In Which we Resupply

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes find a temporary refuge, but how long will that last?

We were all travel worn and weary, it was around noon on the fifth day that the woods began to thin. The gravestones were gone. Grass gave up its territory to a gravel and mud pathway. Wheels from carriages had dug deep ruts into the path, leading us onward. By evening we could see a village. There hadn’t been a single sign of pursuit since we had fled Yharnam, and we all began to think of warm food and soft beds. Cato started to mumble about beer and ballads. His words made everything worse. It reminded us how badly we wanted to stay. 

“We could, at the very least, see if they have a doctor, someone to make sure Cato’s doing ok.” Imogen said, “If nothing else sitting in front of a fire for a few minutes might make us all a bit less weary.” 

“We stand out too much.” Frigga sighed, “Especially with my leg.” 

“There hasn’t been a single sign of Minimus.” I argued. 

“All the more reason to not leave a single sign of us.” She replied 

“Wouldn’t it be strange if a group of what are presumably travelers came through and didn’t stop for even so much as a meal?” Imogen retorted. 

Frigga paused and cocked her head to the side trying to think of an argument. She was at a loss. 

We broke into grins when Frigga relented and agreed to a quick meal. The promise of warm food increased our clip and we came through the village before too long. With much badgering and harassment Fwahe had agreed to put down her hood and wear a pack over it, concealing most of the antlers. She would still stand out in the fur cape but if we huddled around and kept our heads down there was less chance of her causing mass panic. 

The tavern was the only place with candles burning, so we were able to locate it rather easily. It was a modest building, nothing particularly special about it. The interior was characterized by a large fireplace, a bar brimming with the promise of alcohol and a few tables scattered around. The tavern keeper and an intoxicated patron were the only two people inside. 

Frigga had wanted to wait outside, afraid that her injury would stand out. How a busted leg was going to be more noticeable than Fwahe’s cloak and mismatched eyes I did not know, but that was her perception of the situation. With help from Cato and Imogen and many layers of cloth they chipped away her confident appearance. She stooped and shuffled, walking with a cane and keeping her features hidden by a bowed head. She kept it down in the practiced humility that comes from being a beggar. She played the part well and when we entered no one gave her a second glance. 

Cato ordered food and drinks for us, and we claimed the table closest to the flames. While at first we’d been looked at with contempt, the silver flash of coins was enough incentive for our sustenance to arrive quickly. We were provided with bowls of a thin stew, burnt bread and watery ale. We were all assured it was the best that could be provided and no one voiced complaints. The stew had an occasional bit of meat in it, the bread would soften if soaked in either ale or broth and even watery spirits made you warm right up. 

Frigga kept her head down but would look up from her meal every few minutes and check the door. She was counting every second we spent here. To her each was a grain of sand placed one by one on the scales. She didn’t want satisfaction to outweigh safety, her eagle eyes watched every grain, trying to predict the moment at which we would tip to far and be done for. 

She made the call and we got up to leave. Cato made eye contact with the tavern keeper before dropping some coins on the table, settling our bill. We made our way to the door. The tavern keeper trailed us, stepping out from behind the bar and beating us to the door. 

“Where you heading off too in such a hurry?” The tavern keeper asked us. 

“What’s it to you?” Cato snarled back. 

“Easy there.” He replied, “Just figured you lot would rather be put up with a room then spend the night out there. It’s nasty business what with those beasts about and the winter coming in.” 

“We’re fine.” Cato replied 

“Let me put you up for the night, come on free of charge.” 

When a tavern keeper, whose sole purpose in life is to keep people drinking their lackluster ale and eating half spoiled food starts to offer things free of charge you know there is going to be a problem. He was a big guy, tall and muscular, formidable to be sure. Still he wouldn’t be a match for the four of us. 

Not on his own anyway. 

The door handle came down and two villagers entered the tavern. They were l as big as the bar keep. Their broad shoulders scraped the doorframe as they began to crowd the doorway. 

“Really, I insist.” The tavern keeper said with a smile. “Stay awhile. What have you got to lose?” 

We were all loosing ourselves a bit. Cato gnashed his teeth, Fwahe’s hands went to the twin blades at her belt. Before a battle broke out Frigga spoke, her voice clear and calm betraying her disguise. 

“We graciously accept your offer.” She said, keeping her head down while she spoke. 

The tavern keeper broke into a grin. “Excellent, Murphy and Sikes will show you to your rooms.” The tavern keeper maintained his air of polite suggestion. His voice was so calm it was malicious. He nodded at two of the men barring the doors entrance. 

“Those two…seem familiar.” Imogen mumbled as we were directed towards the back door. 

To none of our surprise it didn’t lead to rooms. Instead it led outside where an ominous carriage awaited us. The driver wearing garments of the most horrible colors. They were colors we’d come to fear. Red and black. This was one of Minimus’ men. 

“How the hell did they track us?” Cato growled. 

“Tracking had nothing to do with it.” The man called Sikes said, “Our good father Abbot knew you’d flee into the woods and there’s only so many places you can come out. You were surrounded from the start.” 

Murphy, the other one opened the carriage door and we were greeted by the same guard Cato and I had ridden with on the night of Frigga’s arrest. 

“Miss me?” He asked raising an eyebrow at Cato. 

Before the sharp-tonged hunter could come up with a reply Fwahe started to get strange. They had yet to disarm any of us, confident we wouldn’t put up a fight. I figured out why they felt familiar to Imogen, they carried themselves with the same superior air that Minimus’ police had. It was a good chance we’d butted heads with them at the tournament. 

The lone huntress had other plans, she wasn’t going to be taken down so easily. She had been talking to herself as we were led out the door, keeping her voice low so only she was participant in the conversation; but now things had changed. She held a blade each hand. Her eyes were wide and wild, she seemed to be staring straight through the men and the carriage, as though neither existed. She was seeing something beyond all of us. 

“I will devour the wicked and become the crescent phase.” She declared. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Murphy asked moving towards her. He was confident in his size and move towards her hands outstretched with the intent to disarm Fwahe. 

She moved so quick that I doubted whether she’d moved at all. Murphy’s neck ran red. She had slit it open in the same matter as Barristan had Templeton. One cut, straight and startling, and then it was over. This was usually the time where all hell would break loose, but Fwahe could outrun chaos. She was completely sure of herself. By the time Murphy’s knees buckled to the point of collapse; Sikes’ throat was gushing. There was no hesitation. 

The bar keeper turned back towards the tavern. We were more then he’d bargained for. Imogen and Cato moved to block his path. He pushed Imogen to the ground, and Cato took the opportunity to stab him in the back, driving a knife into his neck. The tavern keeper went down without a sound. 

That just left the carriage man and the guard with a grudge. Neither of them were going to sit idly by and let us kill them. The carriage man had a pistol, and the good sense to know that Fwahe moved too fast for quicksilver to stop her. He focused his attention elsewhere. The guard withdrew the sword at his belt and tried to fight his way out of the carriage. Fwahe held him at close quarters, barring his exit and backing him into the small space. His sword would be no match for her knives in that close a proximity. He wouldn’t have the space to swing. 

Meanwhile the carriage driver leveled his pistol at me and squeezed the trigger. Cato barreled into me, knocking me onto the cold ground before the bullet met its mark. 

Frigga was trying to find cover but her leg wasn’t making things easy for her. The shooter was lining his gun up with her head, preparing his next target. 

Before he had a chance to shoot I grabbed one of my knives and threw it at him. It whistled past him, harmless. It was able to shake him slightly. I couldn’t wound him but the throw bought Frigga a bit of time. She took shelter behind the wide open door, pulling it back so that she was sandwiched between its boards and then wall of the tavern. 

Imogen had much better aim then I did and once she’d gotten a sense of the situation and dispelled the danger with a perfect throw. Her blade went handle over point, looping over itself in the air before sinking into the half-closed eye of the carriage driver. He wouldn’t be opening that one anytime soon. His gun fell from his hands. It clashed against the iron front wheel before kicking up a cloud of dirt and frost when it settled on the ground. 

Fwahe’s cloak was stained a deeper crimson then before but that was the only notable difference when she came out of the carriage. I hadn’t had a single doubt about her victory. She hopped out from the doorframe and wiped her blades off on the coat of the deceased gunner. 

“Anyone else?” she asked. 

None of the dead men talked back. 

“Is everyone ok?” Frigga asked pushing aside the door now that the dust had cleared. 

None of us had taken much time to survey the scene. Cato hadn’t moved since pushing me over. “M-man…down.” He muttered trying to crack a joke. 

“Shit.” I hissed and turned back to my fallen brother at arms. 

There was a considerable amount of blood surrounding him. He took a bullet for me. 

“Shit what do I do?” I asked staring dumbfounded at him. Panic was starting to rise in my chest and I lost the ability to think in a linear fashion. 

Imogen shoved me out of the way and knelt down to examine him. She started to undo all the layers of clothing, everything was red. There was so much to get through, it had been so cold. When all of the fabric had been removed, we all saw the wound, he’d taken a shot to the shoulder. 

“Get me some beasts’ blood.” Imogen said. Her voice was shaking, but she tried to remain calm and take command of the situation. Her limited medical experience was all we had to go off. 

Fwahe tossed her a vial and she shot it into Cato’s veins. 

“It’s got to help strengthen him right?” Imogen asked looking at us with eyes wide and worried. 

Frigga nodded at her, “Breathe and focus.” She advised. 

“I really don’t know what to do. I never had to deal with something like this before.” She said as she tied off the injection’s entry point to prevent further blood loss. “It looks really bad.” 

Frigga took a deep breath and considered her options carefully. “We’ve got a carriage and a head start. Let’s get him to Cainhurst. If we hurry they may be able to help. Stop the bleeding and patch up what you can. Sterling loot the tavern, take anything that you think we can use. We’re leaving in five minutes. Be quick.” 

I nodded and took off. I tried to make a mental list of all that might come in handy but thoughts faded almost as soon as they began. The only two items I managed to remember with clarity were alcohol to disinfect and fresh bandages. After locating those I was at a loss. 

I tore through the bars supplies, shoving onions, burnt rolls, parchment and wax candle stubs together into the same pack. They jostled and fought for space with each other, the more things I forced in the more frantic I became. I was running out of room. I didn’t know what to grab. I’d thought about looting a bar before, but now that the opportunity arose I couldn’t remember even a small part of my plan. Time was running out, and as the last and perhaps only sensible maneuver I dumped the contents of the cash box in with my hodgepodge of stolen goods. 

The guard Fwahe had killed in the carriage had been shoved out of the door and laid limp next to the sharpshooter. His body was mutilated from blade marks. It seemed his death hadn’t been as particularly quick or easy as I might’ve hoped. The lone hunter must’ve had to work for this one. 

Cato had been carried inside of the carriage and was laid on the bench with less of the dead man’s blood on it. The entire carriage reeked of copper blood and was enough to make you miss a meal. We steeled our stomachs and climbed inside, Frigga deciding to direct the horses from the coachmen’s seat. A click of the reigns was all it took and we were off. 

Imogen, Fwahe and I all sat in silence, shoulder to shoulder on the same bench. We were trying to make the best of the small stained quarters. Imogen got up every few minutes to check on Cato. He hadn’t quite gone unconscious; but he certainly wasn’t himself. He cringed at every bump in the road and couldn’t seem to get a solid sentence together. He’d ask for Frigga every few minutes and we’d have to remind him that she was outside driving us onward. 

Imogen told us to keep answering the questions, no matter how often they were repeated. The longer he kept awake the better, the stronger his chances for survival. 

As the moon climbed into the sky we trundled along tearing along the path as fast as Frigga dared. The ride was reckless and the pace relentless. I ceded my window seat to Fwahe after a few short minutes, looking out the window was making me dizzy. The carriage took turns so sharply it threatened to flip. I had flashbacks to Yar’Gul. Frigga propelled us down the trail like the devil herself was after us. 

“Even with everyone dead someone is going to raise the alarm aren’t they?” I asked. 

Imogen nodded, “There’s no way we’d get away with this. He’ll have had a backup plan. He’s going to come after us and-“ 

“Stop.” Fwahe said. She turned and focused her gaze out the window, “Stop. It won’t help.” 

There was nothing more to say. We clung to the sides of the carriage and forged onward into the night. When the moon reached its peak Cato went out of it. Imogen took a more precarious position, sitting on the floor and keeping a hand on his wrist. She was monitoring his pulse, making sure he didn’t clock out on us before we’d really had a shot at saving him. 

He needed to be saved. I can’t believe he’d risked his life for me yet again and got injured in the process. This was different then the cleric beast. People didn’t bounce back from bullets as easily as bruises. Frigga and I were of one mind on the matter, neither of us was losing another Valkyrie. 

“How far is Cainhurst?” I asked. 

Imogen shrugged, “I’ve never been.” 

Fwahe answered, “Sometimes it feels like minutes. Sometimes it feels like miles.” 

“What is Cainhurst like?” Imogen asked. 

“Big and empty.” Fwahe replied. She was keeping her answers short. This wasn’t something she wanted to talk about. 

“That makes sense. The Executioners cleaned the place out years ago.” Imogen said, “The Cainhurst Massacre.” 

Imogen kept pushing the issue, she couldn’t stand the silence. I wasn’t a fan of it either. The rickety sound of the carriage and the way Cato struggled for breath were too loud. The discussions served as distractions and both Imogen and myself needed them. 

“But they were Vilebloods right?” I asked, “Isn’t it the same as killing beasts?” 

“If you have an executioner’s mentality,” Fwahe spat her voice full of contempt, “if that is how you choose to think then yes. I suppose killing Vilebloods is the same as killing beasts.” 

“What are they like? The Executioners? I’ve only ever met Alfred and he seemed to be in leagues with Minimus. There weren’t very many at the tournament.” I said 

“There really aren’t all that many left.” Imogen said, “Since there aren’t many Vilebloods, or at least there weren’t before. Annalise, she’s the Vileblood Queen, must be making more. Turning people the same way the blood can turn good hunters to beast. The Executioners, when they went on the hunt, cleared out Cainhurst of everyone except her majesty Annalise. They couldn’t get in to kill her but they could keep her pinned inside. Logarius took the ultimate martyr’s position, standing guard for all time to keep her sealed in her throne room. This was a long time ago, and ever since the Massacre there haven’t been any disturbances.” 

“Until now.” I said, “That means Logarius must have died right? Vilebloods are immortals of a fashion so she just outlasted him?” 

Imogen ran a hand through her hair in though, “I suppose it’s possible, however some suspect that Logarius was given a power from the gods, some kind of special healing church ritual that imbibed him with divine life eternal. That’s what they’ve said anyway, but I’ve no idea. He could be dead.” 

“We won’t get that luck.” Fwahe assured us. “Executioners don’t just wink out like dying candles.” 

“That would be an advantage to us then.” I said, “Logarius could help us stand against any of the Vilebloods who might attack.” 

“You don’t know Logarius.” Fwahe replied. 

“Plus Frigga said we were going to ask Annalise for help, not Logarius.” Imogen reminded, “She would’ve had her reasons for that.” 

If Annalise was good enough for Frigga she was going to have to be good enough for us. We continued our race through the streets. The moon was starting it’s decent, putting us around the witching hour when we suddenly had company. 

Riders were approaching fast on fresh horses. We craned our necks out the window and saw them hardly a horse length behind us. They’d come in from the sparse tree line on either side of the path. In the moonlight it was hard to tell if they were Minimus’ men or just some raiders who saw a carriage and wanted to take the bait. 

We didn’t have a lot of extra weapons to waste. While I had scavenged the bar Imogen had collected the coach man’s pistol and the guard’s sword. We had these and a few throwing knives, the rest had been left with Frigga’s first mount who was presumably still in the village. The coach horses, huge and powerful though they were had been running for hours. The chasers had mounts that were slim, nimble and built for speed. 

Fwahe opened the carriage door and climbed onto the roof, taking the sword along with her. I reached for the pistol. 

“Do you know how to use one of those things?” Imogen asked. 

“Yeah. They taught me at Byrgenwerth.” I replied. I took the pouch of bullets as well, and counted my shots. We only had five, including the one loaded in the chamber. One shot and four spares. There were three men chasing us, two from the left and one from the right. My aim wouldn’t be good enough to take out all of them. 

“Good.” Imogen replied, “Aim for their faces.” 

She scooped up the rest of the throwing knives. I emptied all but one from my pockets so she now had a total of nine. Those could do some damage and she sure knew how to throw them. She took the left window, giving me the single rider. None of us knew what Fwahe was up too. 

I tried to remember how Gaines had done things, that night in Yar’gul. I had sat there and reloaded for them all, and after building gun after gun I had no doubts that the thing would fire when I pulled the trigger. It was a matter of lining up the shot now, and we hadn’t gotten to moving targets at the practice range. That was going to be taught after the tournament. 

I guess in a sense it still was. I laid the short gun barrel on the windowsill, bracing it all I could. The carriage was rickety and I’d be jolted from my position as we continued but it was worth the readjustments to have the additional stability. 

I heard a thumping on top of the carriage, Fwahe’s foot. She was stomping on my side, the right side of the roof. Seconds later the rider came into view, she had given me a heads up. I locked my eyes on the shadowy figure, fast approaching, slowed my breath and squeeze the trigger. The sound of the gun rattled all of our ears and may have even jolted Cato from his sleep but it had missed the rider completely. 

I shook my head, trying to knock away the feelings of doubt and disappointment. I had four shots left. I cracked open the chamber and began to load my next shot. We thundered onwards. 

“We can’t gain any ground!” Frigga’s voice was loud and clear even over the carriage wheels and whinnying of spooked horses, “Take them out now!” 

Fwahe’s foot pounded on the roof once more, but they were traveling this time. I watched in a mix of awe and confusion as she leapt away from the carriage, foot extended. Her aim when leaping off a carriage left my experience with a gun far behind. Her foot met the right rider, who I couldn’t shoot. She caught him right in the face and grabbed his mount’s reigns as she sailed past. Her momentum was enough to bring the beast down and the scream we heard behind us was confirmation of the rider’s termination. The next time someone approached on the right it was Fwahe, she’d commandeered the rider’s animal and was racing to catch up. The spooked creature attempted to throw her at every opportunity, frightened out of its wits. 

I left the right side to her, and moved over to see if Imogen needed help. The small window of the carriage was giving her trouble, she couldn’t pull back her arm as far as she needed to and her blades kept getting caught before she could throw them. One was left lodged above the window frame. 

“I think I need to get on top.” She said, “Can’t throw from here.” 

“Ok.” I said, “Go ahead.” 

“I’m afraid I’ll fall.” She said as she opened the carriage door. Terrified but willing to do what she had to, that’s how we all seemed to be behaving nowadays; unwilling to shirk from the task. She scrambled for a grip on the roof, wrapping her fingers around the wire barrier of the luggage rack. It wasn’t quite so quick or elegant an ascent as Fwahe’s had been but Imogen made it to the top. I passed her knives up to her and then pulled the door closed. 

Once again I braced the barrel of my gun in the doorframe. There was no reason for Imogen to take on the riders alone. 

“They’re coming!” She shouted. 

Not a second too soon we could see them. Their horses strained against the reigns wanting to run faster than their masters had even thought possible. They were level with our back wheels. One of the riders surrendered complete control to his animal, gripping the horse with only his legs as he leveled a crossbow at us. 

He let the bolt fly and I ducked down to avoid an arrow through the eye. His aim was perfect, if I’d reacted a second too late I would’ve been done for. Instead the arrow met its mark in the wooden walls of the carriage, just above Cato. A few more missed shots could end up being the death of him. 

Imogen’s knife sparkled in the moonlight, sailing end over end perfectly like before. She needed no help hitting a moving target. The rider had seen her blade but wasn’t able to dodge it completely. Imogen had been going for his neck. He raised his arm to block it, taking the shot in his arm just above the elbow. He would have his accuracy severely reduced. 

The riders slowed up, stepped back and regrouped. They traded places before advancing once more. The injured crossbow user was now further from the carriage, his undamaged companion taking the more precarious position. The closer of the two hurled a ceramic pot overhead. It cracked against the side of the carriage, coating it with something. 

“It’s oil!” Imogen shouted. She flung another knife. Her timing was ruined as Frigga pulled the horses into a sharp turn, trying to cut off our attackers. “They want to burn us alive.” 

I’d had about enough arson for one lifetime. Leaning as far out the window as I dared and turning to look behind us I fired off a shot. This bullet actually hit something, I heard the smash of ceramics. I’d taken out another one of their oil pots. That wouldn’t slow them at all. 

The carriage was rocked by a sudden thump from the left. I craned my neck upwards trying to assess what fresh hell was attacking us now. It wasn’t danger, it was Fwahe, she’d rejoined us. 

The riders position became clear. They were lighting their crossbow arrows on fire. Their position was marked for us, and Imogen let loose another knife. The two riders split, and the knife passed between them. One cut over to the right; now a dog nipped at both our heels. 

“We’re almost there!” Frigga shouted. 

We’d spent so much time looking back that we hadn’t noticed the massive spires of Cainhurst Castle in the distance. The castle was dusted with an early snowfall and stood out stark white in the darkness. We had a landmark, and it was not far. If we could only just reach it. 

The first arrow sailed through the air. Our eyes were mesmerized by it, the brightest thing around. Imogen launched a throwing knife. With the kind of skill I’d never seen before the handle of the blade connected with the tip of the arrow, and knocked the projectile off course. 

They had far more arrows then we had knives. 

The right rider fired his arrow. He was the one with the injured arm and his trajectory was far from perfect. It didn’t pose a threat and we let it fly past us. 

“Don’t worry about the right take out the left.” I advised. I fired another shot that hit nothing. I was almost out and the only thing I’d damaged was a pot. 

The left rider was drawing back his crossbow once more, fitting another arrow in the string. We could see the despicable grin on his face, illuminated with the sinister fire. 

Fwahe locked eyes with him and planted her feet. Before he could fire his crossbow she drew back her powerful arms and sent the sword sailing towards him, throwing it like a spear. The blade shot straight through the rider’s chest and he plummeted to the ground. 

“Waste of a sword.” Fwahe said spitting off the side of the carriage. 

“Hardly.” Imogen replied. 

With the left side of the battlefield emptied I took to the right and fired at the injured rider. This bullet finally went where I wanted it to go, catching him in the chest and stopping him in his tracks. 

“You did it!” Imogen cried triumphantly. 

“Yeah as soon as he stopped being a threat.” I muttered. 

“As long as he was on the attack he’s a threat. An enemy is an enemy until they breath their last.” Fwahe said swinging herself back down into the carriage through the window.


	21. Chapter the Twenty First :In Which we Arrive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes finally make it to Cainhurst Castle, but what's waiting inside is not what they expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think

Frigga slowed the horses pace. They had been going too fast for too long and there was a possibility of them expiring before we got to the gates. Our speed adjusted I could now gaze out the window at the approaching castle. Two enormous gatehouse towers bordered the rolled steel portcullis. A massive stone wall ran the perimeter, with guard towers every few feet. The Executioners must have had a difficult time finding an access point, the place looked impossible to invade. 

Night ended when we reached the enormous staircase that led up to the castle gates. The horses that had gotten us this far had done their job beyond the call of duty, before we went up to the Castle, Frigga set them loose. She assured us she could make it up the stairs without the need of an animal escort. Imogen and I pried loose one of the carriage’s bench seats. It was difficult to get a grip on the splintered wood, especially when Cato’s weight bore down on it, but there were no better stretcher materials for us to construct something with. 

We switched out who carried Cato and who assisted Fwahe as we battled the cold and wind on our way to the castle. I had a million questions I was too tired to ask, none of us spoke. The challenge of each step was enough to keep us occupied. 

Judging by the position of the sun it was a few hours before we reached the top, and each step had felt impossible. We were drenched in sweat, unarmed and exhausted when we finally stood on the threshold of the castle. Early frost bleached the ground at our feet. The stone walls of the castle were a deep black stone. Cainhurst seemed to be constructed entirely out of light and shadow, the red spots on Fwahe’s cloak and Cato’s shoulder seemed the only colors left in the world. I gazed up at the overbearing guard towers and felt smaller then I’d ever been before. 

Big and Empty. Fwahe’s words rang true. I didn’t see any Vileblood guards, and couldn’t see anything up in the guard towers. We weren’t stopped by anything. The whole place appeared forsaken. I was about to voice my concerns, that we’d come all this way only to have our efforts foiled by an iron gate. I was stopped when the great gate began to rise; not as forsaken as I had thought. 

Had I know what was waiting on the other side I would’ve been overjoyed to find the castle empty. It wasn’t even close. 

Gathering our nonexistent strength we continued through the stone archway before us. Fwahe was carrying one end of Cato’s makeshift stretcher and I bore the other. The entrance led us into a frost-covered courtyard. Statues were scattered here and there, a fountain long frozen in the center of the space. Lanterns illuminated a door off to one side, drawing our attention to an open door. 

“Hello?” Imogen called. 

She was looking back up at the gate house seeking the person who’d opened the portcullis for us. There was no sign of life up there and Frigga recaptured her attention. The door would provide refuge from the cold and it didn’t take much convincing. 

“We’ve got a man down!” Imogen called trying again to find someone to communicate with. She thought that the need for immediate medical attention might stir someone to action. It didn’t. 

She abandoned her quest for a response and turned to the door, following us inside. The door led us into a grand foyer. The place must’ve been beautiful at one time, two staircases met each other midway and joined to form a large landing. A dusty carpet that at one point was sparkling red velvet stretched from the stairs to our position. Intricately carved columns threw shadows across the floor. Everything was drowning in opulence and it would have been beautiful. We would’ve felt perfectly safe and maybe even a little hopeful if it hadn’t been for one problem. 

Standing on the large landing and crowding the staircases to either side, overflowing onto the balcony were hundreds upon hundreds of red and black robed hunters. Standing in the center of the room was the ringleader himself, the Abbot Minimus. His arms were spread wide and his scythe was strapped across his back. 

“Welcome to Castle Cainhurst.” He said. His voice echoed around the chamber. 

As his sentence ended, followers that had concealed themselves behind the columns came forward and seized us. Minimus was taking no chances, he would never underestimate us again. Even though we came before him weaponless and travel-worn he took us the first second he could. Eight men were put to the task of restraining Fwahe, and another eight had Frigga for a mark. They’d even decided I merited three of them. We were forced to our knees, hands quickly cuffed behind our backs. 

One of the guards stared down at Cato, clearly disappointed that he didn’t have anyone to force into submission. “What do we do with this one, Father Minimus?” 

Minimus swiftly strode down the carpet and leaned over the unconscious hunter. I gnashed my teeth as he took his time examining the boy dying at his feet. None of us spoke, we didn’t want to jeopardize Cato’s chances. It took all of our combined self-control. Frigga shot us glares to make sure we were on the same page when it came to silence. Chained and forced to her knees, she was still giving commands. She was still leading. 

“He’s hardly worth our time.” Minimus finally proclaimed, taking the scythe from his back. He raised it over his head, blade shining in the candlelight as he lined it up with Cato’s exposed neck. 

“Wait! Stop!” 

Minimus’ face whirled around, his lip curled up in irritation. Someone was pushing through the sea of red and black robed hunters. All of our attention was drawn to her as she came down the staircase. I blinked several times, not believing what I saw. 

Templeton, hair and glasses askew was rushing to Cato’s rescue. She nearly tripped over the stairs and carpet, picking herself up just moments before she’d crash to the ground. She was thinner then I’d ever seen a person. All of her clothes were torn, she was wearing the outfit we’d laid her to rest in. Her skin and eyes seemed different. When she came closer we could see the reason for her sporadic pace; her ankles were chained together as were her wrists. 

“Do you seriously think your opinion is worth anything to me, Vileblood?!” Minimus spat at Templeton. “I raised you from the dead, your life is mine and you will not question my choices. You belong to me now.” 

“Please, sir.” Templeton said dropping to her knees. As she bent over into a bow, horrible burnt scarifications along her back were exposed. “Sir, he’s a weapons-maker. He could be of use to you, sir. Please, let me heal him. I can heal him.” 

It was enough to give Minimus pause. “Put him in the dungeons, if he survives we’ll use him. If not there is no great loss. He’s not worth sparing supplies on.” 

The guards nodded and bowed before carrying Cato away. The stretcher gave them no trouble. 

“What have they done to you?” Frigga asked. 

Minimus answered for her, “She hadn’t finished her research. We needed her to finish, so Queen Analise…was persuaded to help us. She’s nothing like the girl you knew, she’s a Vileblood now and once her task is complete we will let the executioners take care of her. If she would’ve just learned her place you wouldn’t have even had to know about this.” 

“What kind of inhuman monster-“ Imogen began. One of the guards who’d brought her down cut her sentence short with a swift kick to the ribs. 

“The Gall you Valkyries have, calling me inhuman when you’ve come all this way to appeal to the Queen of abominations herself.” He replied, “And the lack of foresight between your collective is truly astonishing. Did you not see the Vileblood amongst your group?” 

He was staring directly at Fwahe. Her mismatched eyes met his, gold and blue and full of fury. 

“Your girlfriend never told you the truth did she? Her bloods been Vile longer then you’ve been alive Frigga.” Minimus elaborated. 

Fwahe looked straight at Minimus, refusing to meet Frigga’s gaze. She was talking to herself again. It raised one of the guard’s alarm and he shoved her head down, afraid she was trying to perform some kind of spell on the Abbot. 

“She must have been planning to devour you for quite some time. I’ve been told it’s so much sweeter once you have their trust.” Minimus said. The Abbot nodded at his guards and they took Fwahe away before she could make a response. “Don’t you worry, we’ll keep her blood starved. Take the strength right out of her.” 

“I don’t understand.” I muttered as I tried to put all the pieces of Minimus’ plan together. None of them made any sense. 

“Of course you wouldn’t. You weren’t supposed to make it this far.” Minimus said, “Mother Kos has no love for you if she threw you down this path. All is not lost for you little hunter, I can appreciate the misfortune you’ve been dragged through. You may not have the mind of a scholar but you have brains enough to know that you are not on the winning side of this situation. Join me now and your sins will be forgiven. You will be cleansed and the fate of your blasphemous companions will not become yours.” 

It seemed like there were a thousand hunters watching me, and waiting for my response. I really didn’t want to die but I don’t think I could live with myself if I betrayed the people who’d worked so hard to keep me alive. They were all I had. 

It wasn’t a smart choice. I couldn’t even really consider it a brave choice since really I was too afraid to be a part of any other hunter’s clan. There were a lot of choice it wasn’t, but it was my own. 

“No.” 

It was all I could manage. 

“So be it.” Minimus said. With a wave of his hand we were pulled to our feet and taken out of the room. Imogen and I were carried out the same hallway that Cato had passed through. We were headed to the dungeons. Frigga was left behind in the throne room with Barristan, Minimus and the rest. 

We passed dining rooms and drawing rooms, the hallways they pushed us down had portraits all along them. The people in the paintings looked down on us, they seemed displeased. I tried to keep track of the hallways, memorize the right and left turns so that I could have some knowledge of the castle’s layout, but it was massive. I lost track. 

The guards shoved us down a staircase and as we descended it got colder and colder. One of them took a key from his belt and unlocked an iron door. We had reached the dungeons. 

Cato was already laid in one of the cells. They’d taken the time to chain his ankles to the floor and secure his wrists together, despite their doubts of his survival. We got the same treatment, in separate cells. They weren’t going to let us stick together. Fwahe was secured in the cell next to me. Her arms were cuffed to the wall. She was hurling insults at the guards but they didn’t listen to a word she said. They chained us up, secured the doors and returned to the throne room. 

“Why didn’t you tell us you were Vile?” Imogen asked. 

Fwahe did not reply. 

“All this time you’ve been seeing Frigga and you never told her! How could you keep a secret like that?” She shouted. 

“Leave her alone Imogen.” 

We looked into the darkness, pressing ourselves as close as we could to the bars. The dungeon’s lighting was minimal at best but we could see her silhouette and it was unmistakable. It was Anwen. Imogen let her assault on Fwahe drop off and turned her attention to her fellow hunter. “You’re alive?” she asked incredulously. 

“Yes.” Anwen replied. 

We shared a brief moment of triumph. Imogen tried to reach through the bars and touch her to be sure we weren’t all having a group hallucination. The chains and cuffs kept her from confirmation and we had to trust our eyes. 

“What happened?” I asked realizing that something must’ve gone wrong for her to have landed here. 

“We were apprehended shortly after the fire at Yharnam.” Anwen said, “They overwhelmed us. We were outnumbered.” 

“I’m sure you fought as hard as you could.” Imogen said. 

We all nodded our agreement. Anwen wasn’t the type to surrender unless she were truly out of options. 

“What happened to the twins?” Imogen asked. 

“I haven’t seen them for the five days I’ve been here. Minimus wanted them for something.” Anwen answered. 

Imogen sighed and ran her hands through her hair. She wished she could’ve taken the question back and savored the triumph of having Anwen back a few moments longer. 

Anwen asked her own question, “What’s wrong with Cato?” 

“He got shot.” Imogen said, “It’s really bad. I didn’t know what to do.” 

Anwen didn’t say anything. I looked over into Cato’s cell. He was right where the guards had thrown him, hadn’t moved an inch. Without a way to check his pulse he became a paradox, alive and dead at the same time. We had no way of knowing. 

Anwen swallowed, gathered her thoughts and then re-kindled the conversation, “What about you? What about Lady Frigga?” 

We began to tell her about our journey to Cainhurst. Imogen and I traded off in parts, describing the tavern and the constant terror of the forest. We told her about the carriage racing along the slim streets and the riders’ attack. As we continued the narrative it became apparent how much we’d relied on Fwahe’s skills to pull us through. Without the Vileblood we would’ve been caught by Minimus much earlier. Imogen wasn’t very keen on acknowledging this point but I was touched by it. There must have been real concern for her to be willing to return to Cainhurst for us. The portraits lining the hallways, she must’ve known the people in them. This was the murder scene for everyone Fwahe had ever known and she’d braved it for nothing. 

“What’s he planning?” I asked. 

Anwen shrugged, “I haven’t been able to figure out anything.” 

“It doesn’t matter.” Fwahe growled, “There’s no understanding people like Minimus.” 

“Speak for yourself, Vileblood.” Imogen snarled back. 

“I never killed anyone who didn’t warrant it.” Fwahe defended, “It was the Executioners who destroyed everything in their path.” 

Imogen didn’t justify the argument with a reply, turning up her nose and turning her back on the silver-haired prisoner. 

It ruined the whole aura of the place. It wasn’t as though prisons were particularly pleasant to begin with but having needless head-buttings wasn’t going to help any of us. Imogen had allowed silence and distrust to gain their hold on us. We were isolated. Kept apart both by the chains and bars that kept us apart physically and the differences that we couldn’t work past in our minds. 

I didn’t know that things could be colder than the nights we suffered in the Forbidden Woods. Cold wind wriggled through the cracks in the stonework to bite at us. My wrists and ankles were hyper-aware of the chilled metal resting against them, so frozen it seemed to burn. I lost feeling in my toes and the tips of my fingers. Winters spent on the street had nothing on this place. 

After a small eternity the sharp click of boots could be heard descending the staircase. There was a shuffling of keys and the squeak of the iron barred door on its hinges. We watched a man enter the room. A set of keys hung around his neck and he wore a bright red jacket over his black and red robes. A belt brimming with knives was secured around his waist. 

“Hurry up!” He barked behind him. 

Templeton shuffled into view. They didn’t have any guards marking her. Even with her blood gone vile she wasn’t seen as a threat. The keeper of the keys secured her in the cell next to Fwahe’s. He looked the lone hunter up and down, grinning. 

“Did they ever give you your marks?” He asked her. 

“Yes, shortly before they were eaten” Fwahe spat back, “The wicked servants of man’s rage forced knives into my flesh as though it was theirs to take.” 

“You killed one of my uncles. Never got to meet him because of you.” The key master replied. This fact didn’t seem to strike him as a particularly personal matter. He announced the murder casually. “Good Abbot Minimus has promised you to me. He lets me do the carving up of all his little curiosities.” 

He stepped back into Templeton’s cell and pulled apart some of the tattered fabric so that the Vileblood could see the work he’d done on the scholar’s back. Right at the base of Templeton’s neck, between the shoulder blades was a raised letter “V”. It had been burnt there. Below it was an enormous rune, which had been put there by one of the blades in the key-keeper’s belt. It was shaped like a five pointed star. There was an eyeball cut into the center of the star. The cuts were deep and hadn’t been bandaged. They were still yet to heal. 

“Vision for her, because she’s seen too much.” He explained. He nudged Templeton with his foot, “Don’t you like it?” 

“Yes sir.” She replied. 

“Liar.” He spat, kicking her in the side as he turned away and exited the cell. He was heading down the hall, but before they closed the door behind him he turned back over his shoulder, “There are so many runes I know good lady Fwahe, and I shall take the time to teach you every one.” 

The silence was replaced by Templeton’s sniffling as she struggled to hold back tears. 

“Don’t let him get to you Temp.” Anwen said 

“It’s not him.” Templeton said, “L-Lady Frigga wouldn’t…she didn’t want to talk to me anymore.” 

“She’s just got a lot to think through.” Anwen encouraged, “She’ll come around. She’s always been sensible, you know she’ll know you didn’t want this.” 

Templeton nodded and paced around her cell anxiously. When she stepped into the candlelight I could see the scar that ran across her neck, left behind by Barristan’s blade. It was reassurance that I hadn’t imagined her death. It was unsettling to see her alive again but I tried not to let my discomfort show. 

“Who was that guy?” Imogen asked, after making sure he was gone. 

Templeton took a moment and scratched the back of her neck. She immediately withdrew her hand when it rubbed against the burn scar. Nervous habits die hard. She coughed and then spoke, “Throat-Slitter.” 

“That’s his name?” I said 

Templeton nodded. “I don’t want to talk about him.” 

None of us wanted to push her. She settled into her cell, taking a position as far from the doorway as possible. She didn’t lean against the stones, it seemed like even contact with the thin fabric of her tattered clothes enflamed her scars. 

Imogen waited until it seemed Templeton had made herself as comfortable as she was going to get. She finally posed that had been burning in her mind, “Have you seen Scarlett?” 

“I don’t want to talk about her either.” Templeton said. 

“She’s alive?” Imogen asked, voice swelling with hope. 

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” Templeton whimpered. 

“You’ve got to tell me!” Imogen shouted. “You can’t keep secrets, that’s something a vil-“ 

“Something a Vileblood would do?” Fwahe growled finishing her sentence for her. 

“Enough!” Anwen shouted, voice echoing through the dungeons. “Frigga would never stand for this kind of bickering. I’ll not have it either.” 

Templeton wasn’t the only one sniffling now. Imogen slumped against the cell’s stone wall and tried to keep herself from sobbing. My heart went out to her. It must be agony to be this close and this far from what you’d been holding out hope for. It also wasn’t like Templeton to withhold information. The sobbing was soon joined by the scholar’s growling stomach. Templeton doubled over on herself, and groaned in pain. 

Fwahe’s head turned towards her and she raised an eyebrow “When did you have your last dreg?” 

“I…I haven’t.” Templeton said. “I can’t. I don’t want too.” 

“When were you cut?” Fwahe asked, urgency and concern rising in her voice. 

“The same day I died.” Templeton said. 

Fwahe took a second to collect herself before responding, “That’s more than a week you’ve been holding out then?” 

“I’ve been trying to encourage her not too.” Anwen said, “She doesn’t want to eat anyone.” 

“Idiots.” Fwahe snarled, “For all your little letters you need me to spell this one out for you. Vilebloods who don’t drink dregs get bad brains. If you don’t eat you’ll go mad.” 

Templeton’s sniffling changed into tears. Fwahe cursed in frustration and threw herself forward, trying to wrench the cuffs out of the wall. The metal was strong and unyielding; she wasn’t going anywhere. 

“M..Mi-minimus says…I..I have to kill them myself.” Templeton said, “That’s why I can’t do it….I can’t.” 

“You’ve killed beasts for blood before.” Fwahe argued. 

“Humans aren’t beasts.” Imogen said, “Not that Vilebloods would know the difference.” 

“I said enough!” Anwen barked before they began to argue. “Just rest. Get some sleep. We’ll figure it out in the morning.” 

The offer of sleep was one I hadn’t considered in a long time. When we first began our trek through the woods I could feel myself nodding off as it got late. As we continued the numbing need to make progress propelled me onward. I hadn’t taken in rest as a real possibility in days. I laid my head down on the cold cobblestones and tried not to think about where I was. Banishing the room full of caged monsters wasn’t easy. 

Though Throat-Slitter’s threats weren’t directed at me, they still rattled around in my brain and made it harder to settle down. Still my legs were worn from walking. My arms ached from carrying Cato everywhere we went, and physical exhaustion won the battle. 

There was a beautiful instant in the space between waking up and opening my eyes. It only lasted a few seconds but before I saw the dungeon I couldn’t remember where I was. Sleep-drunk and reeling from dreams I thought I was back at the library or crashed on the floor at the clinic. That was until my brain started to put the pieces back together. I remembered. My life fell apart again, and then I woke up. 

The dungeon had no allowance for actual light to come through so I couldn’t determine the time of day. That was strange to me too; in the woods it always mattered. In Yharnam it had determined our routine. At Cainhurst we couldn’t care less. All of the monsters were caged, including the Vilebloods. I was the safest I’d been since the night at South End Church and it made me sick to my stomach, finding sanctuary in a place like this. 

I looked around trying to see if the others were awake. Templeton’s cell was empty. So was Cato’s. Imogen seemed to be asleep, still leaning against the wall. Fwahe never seemed to sleep, but she was glaring through the bars of her cage, murmuring to herself. Something about bones and sand. I had to strain my eyes to try and get an eye on Anwen but she seemed to be asleep as well. There was still no sign of Frigga. 

The cuffs on my wrist and ankles seemed heavier and colder than they had the day before. I tugged at them halfheartedly. I knew it wouldn’t do any good. Resistance meant nothing here. I waited for the others to wake up because I didn’t have anything else to do. In the interim I learned every crack and dent in every stone that comprised my prison cell. 

Throat-Slitter returned to the dungeons before Anwen or Imogen had awakened. The click of his boots stirred me from my boredom-induced trance. Templeton wasn’t following behind him, instead the red-jacket sentinel came to a halt in front of my cell and unlocked the door. 

He undid the chains connecting my ankles to the floor. “Good Abbot Minimus wants you. You are too be converted and purified.” Throat-Slitter informed. 

“I told him I didn’t want to join his cult.” I spat. 

Throat-Slitter rolled his eyes. “I didn’t ask for your opinion. On your feet, boy. Follow me.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” I said. 

Again the key-keeper rolled his eyes. He snapped his fingers and two guards stepped into my cell. They grabbed me, one on each arm and carried me out. I guess I was going somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	22. Chapter the Twenty Second : In Which we Converse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What has become of Frigga Hemlock? We're about to find out.
> 
> Our characters find themselves in some nasty situations, so there's mentions of torture and the like- be aware my dear readers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think!

Frigga no doubt would’ve walked the whole way with dignity. Cato would struggle until they broke every bone in his body rather than go quietly. I was neither of them, so I allowed myself to be carried. The judgmental eyes of the painted Cainhurst nobles looked down at me with contempt. 

Instead of continuing to the throne room we went out a side door and into the courtyard. It was snowing; a thin layer of white covered the dead grass. Icy flakes fell in my face and hair, stinging, colder then cold. My boots dragged through the snow and were more like the tracks of wagon’s wheels then free-willed footsteps. Even resting my deadweight down on the guards I wasn’t enough to be a burden. 

We arrived at a door which led to an elevator shaft. Throat-Slitter rode up by himself and sent the lift back down for us. The two guards alone could’ve filled the entire space. With three of us they pressed me tightly into a corner. Their robes smelled like incense and in the tight quarters it felt like the scent’s suffocation was intentional. The ride was short, that was its only merit. When I pried myself out of the corner, I gulped in fresh air and rolled my shoulders. I wanted to make sure everything still worked after being smashed against the elevator walls. I could see why Throat-Slitter had taken the lift alone. I did not look forward to that part of my return trip. 

The elevator led into an enormous library, bigger than the one we’d been living in. It seemed to go on forever. The bookshelves were a veritable labyrinth. Everything had been shifted around to suit the Abbot’s needs making it more confusing. The book shelves stretched up three floors high with balconies and walkways. There was a main staircase but several ladders and smaller passages to expedite travel within the enormous room. This was the sort of place you could get lost for days in. The room was a flurry of activity. Black-robed followers ran from one end of the room to another carrying armloads of books and papers. There were prisoners strapped down onto sturdy wooden tables and caged monsters lined against the far wall. It smelled like blood and burning wood. 

The key-keeper was immune to the business of everyone else. He strode confidently towards the enormous staircase that led to the library’s second and third floors taking a direct diagonal path. Everyone made way for him. 

We arrived at the third floor and I found the Abbot himself looking over the slim shoulders of Templeton. She was giving him a summary of an enormous tome, her notes stuck out from its pages at all angles. 

The key-keeper cleared his throat to get Minimus’ attention. The Abbot looked up and met his gaze. Throat-Slitter bowed, as did the guards. Their arms took me along with them, dropping me to my knees in the presence of the Abbot. Templeton hadn’t noticed our approach and continued with her summary. Throat-Slitter seemed extremely irritated by this, his hand went to one of the knives at his belt. Minimus held up a hand and shook his head, waiting patiently for Templeton to finish. She noted the change in atmosphere before too much longer and brought her babbling to a close. 

“You need to be working harder than this, especially if you want your friends to survive.” Minimus told her, keeping his voice level and calm. “I’m disappointed in your work today. You know what happens when I am disappointed?” 

“Y-yes sir.” Templeton said 

“And I trust you’ve no desire to spend another day with Throat-Slitter?” 

“P..please sir.” She whimpered. 

“You may want to keep it that way. Find something useful before nightfall, Vileblood.” He instructed. 

Templeton nodded and gathered her things from the table. She locked eyes with Throat-Slitter and he gave her a sinister grin. She suddenly decided that the volumes on the lower levels of the library seemed to be holding key information. She excused herself with much bowing and needless apology before tripping over a stack of books and awkwardly limping away. 

“I brought the boy as requested, Sir.” Throat-Slitter began once Templeton was out of earshot. 

“Thank you. You can leave him with me and return to your work. Take these two gentlemen with you.” Minimus said indicating the guards. 

They filed away from us and I rose back onto my feet. 

“I’m not joining you.” I said. It took all of my courage not to run after declaring it. He gave me such a glare, but it only lasted a second. He collected himself and carried on with a benevolent smile. 

“I think you will change your mind once you’ve seen what I intend to show you.” He replied. 

He motioned me over to the railing and we looked down onto the library. Everything seemed chaotic and horrible. The people secured to the tables were sprayed down with numbing mist, paralyzed. It was the same substance Minimus had used to subdue the Altered Boys when he arrested Frigga at the clinic. The prisoners watched themselves as black-robed followers cut them open. They could see what was happening but they couldn’t stop it. Not everyone was being dissected. Many of them were given injections. A parade of followers went from table to table kneeling at each and praying for purification. 

“This is not going to change my mind.” I told him, turning away from the floors below. 

Minimus placed his hand on the back of my head, gripping firmly and turning my gaze back where he wanted. “You say this because you do not understand.” 

“Oh I understand plenty.” I replied. “Anyone who’s going around capturing people and carving them up isn’t someone I want to consider an ally.” 

“We’re not butchers.” Minimus sighed, “We are redeemers. This world has changed, it has become one where morality is a luxury. Sterling, that is your name isn’t it?” 

“Yes.” I replied. 

His grip tightened, “Do not forget who is in charge here. You will address me with respect.” 

It wasn’t worth fighting over, “Yes sir.” I corrected through gritted teeth. 

“Better.” He proclaimed, “We’re removing their morality these simple beings. They need not worry themselves with the vices and virtues of this deplorable world we reside in. The wolf feels no qualms killing the sheep for its survival. It hasn’t the brain, it hasn’t the heart to know to care. We would be better off this way, pure creatures brimming with Kos’ instinct. Take away the morality and the lower creatures become purified.” 

“Lower creatures, sir? I don’t follow.” I said. 

“Like I said you were never meant to get this far. Simple denizens like you, or at times overzealous blood-addled hunters. Those who cannot control themselves.” He explained. “They’ll benefit from this treatment.” 

“Treatment?” I asked. 

Minimus’ hand turned my head and he pointed to one of the tables on the second floor. “That one is about to be purified. You can witness it firsthand.” 

I watched where he had instructed. Strapped to the table was a prisoner dressed in white. The sun-tanned skin of her arms made me think she might have belonged to one of the woodland groups but I was too far up to get a good read on the details. Her hair was copper and curly. 

One of the followers knelt at the side of her table. From up here I couldn’t here want they said but it didn’t matter. It couldn’t have possibly been useful. They removed from their pocket a syringe, brimming with a thick silvery liquid. The follower shot it right into the prisoner’s veins. 

She began to writhe around the table. I heard the snapping of bones as they stretched and swelled to unseemly sizes. Arms got longer, and hand turned into paws. There was still no screaming. She had been numbed. She broke through her cuffs as the contortion continued and a group of followers prodded her into an awaiting cage. By the time the door closed she was covered in copper fur. She’d been turned into a beast. 

She snarled and growled at the black and red robed followers trying to crunch their skulls with her powerful new jaws. 

“And thus they are redeemed.” Minimus concluded. 

He was making monsters and considering it Kos’ work. I couldn’t believe what I had seen. His apathy towards removing Rook’s fingers had shook me but this was on a different level. The creatures that were responsible for so many murders were being mass produced. Templeton was right he was building an army, one that he would use to purify the world. It felt like all the blood in my veins was boiling. 

“Hunters are supposed to slay monsters, not create them.” I growled. 

“It’s time we changed the rules. What good does hunting do? The denizens are going madder by the minute. You should know, having been a Valkyrie. Every time Frigga sent someone into battle they were killed. Hunting the way we used to is slaughter. This is reincarnation. This is rebirth.” 

This was horrific. 

“You’re insane!” I shouted 

His fingers squeezed down on my head harder. I could feel his fingers tremble with rage. “You should learn to be smarter with what you say, lest it upset those with superior intelligence. You must see that this way is better than the pointless bloodshed, the endless hunt.” 

“I would never do this to anyone.” I said. 

“I’m afraid you’ll need some correcting then.” Minimus sighed. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this. Twice I have offered you redemption. It’s a shame really, we haven’t perfected our methods of alteration yet. What we were trying on the Altered Boy wore off far too fast. And I’m afraid the Vileblood works far too slowly.” 

“You said not to insult anyone of superior intelligence, Sir. She’s clearly smarter then you if you’re so desperate for her help.” I said. 

I thought that his fingernails were going to press right through my skull. My whole head rang with the pressure he put on it. The pain was worth it. With his vice-grip still on my skull Minimus began pushing me forward, down the staircase. We broke off at the second level of the library. I thought people had gone out of their way to make room for Throat-Slitter but whole tables and bookshelves were pushed aside to expedite Minimus’ travel. A door was opened for us, so that he didn’t have to adjust his grip or break stride to continue through it. Everyone bowed their heads and bent their bodies when we went passed. The only ones in opposition were the beasts. They snarled and growled from their cages, priest or peasant made no difference to their appetites. 

Minimus’ brisk pace was hard to keep in front of. His boots scraped the back of my ankles; rather than slow and adjust his pacing to match mine, he increased his speed. He led me through hallways, a ballroom and up several small flights of stairs until we reached sleeping quarters. 

There were medics bustling from room to room. They all wore red or black aprons over their robes and carried books or medical supplies with them. They never seemed to stop moving for more than a moment to nod at Minimus. They were so consumed by their work they couldn’t pay tribute. 

All of the bedroom doors were wide open, some had even been wrenched from their frames and were left piled at the end of the hallway. They were surgically removed, not forced or broken in by a boot but taken down from their weak point, pins ripped out of hinges. I couldn’t help but look inside as we went past. The blue and white glow of arcane electricity crackled inside of the rooms. Many of the floors were covered with swirling coils of wire. 

“Do you want to know what’s become of your patron?” Minimus asked me as we approached the end of the hallway. 

I would’ve rather gone back to the pit in the Forbidden Woods and have Barristan laugh over my dying body as I was devoured by my sister. I would’ve rather fought Lafayette, Rochambeau and Aspen Hearteater all at the same time with a toothpick as my only weapon. I would’ve rather spent the rest of my life cleaning up the messes Doc Keller left behind after his street surgeries. I knew that whatever had happened to Frigga it wasn’t going to be good. I didn’t want to face this reality, but I had too. All of the Valkyries would’ve boldly faced whatever lay ahead. We didn’t have a chance of saving anyone but still; we needed all the information we could possibly get. Closure if nothing else, if I didn’t find out I’d go crazy kicking myself for it later. 

I swallowed nervously, “Yes Sir.” 

“Excellent.” Minimus replied. He let go of my head and opened the door to our right, one of few that remained shut. A grandiose sarcastic wave of his arm bade me to look inside. Nervously I stepped into the room. 

It took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the lighting. Everything was sparking and hissing. The lamps had been doused but the room regularly flashed white and blue when bolts of electricity sparked to life. The floor was covered in wire, there wasn’t a bit of carpeting or wood visible. It felt like walking through worms. The only piece of furniture left in the room was an ornate chair, something that could’ve even been considered a throne. Frigga was its sole occupant. 

Her wrists were secured to the chairs arms by thick leather straps. Her legs and the chair’s legs were similarly secured. The wires around the room were running all over her but the majority were connected to a metal cage that was locked around her head. It looked impossibly heavy. When she turned to see who had come into the room she exposed red marks on her shoulders from where the weight of its frame cut into her. 

“Lights up for us won’t you?” Minimus asked addressing one of the medics. 

The medic nodded swiftly. The white and blue bolts emanating from two massive wire coils stopped sparking. Orange lamplight began to illuminate the room. Sconce by sconce we were bathed in the warm glow and the scene came into clearer focus. The medics all began filing out of the room. Minimus stopped one of them, grabbing the boy by the shoulder and holding him back from the group. His eyes widened in momentary fear. 

“S-sir?” He asked. 

“I want you to explain to Sterling just what it is you are doing.” Minimus instructed. 

“Yes sir.” The medic replied, relieved he wasn’t in any kind of trouble. He waved his hand, motioning us over to one of the walls. Almost all of the space was covered by diagrams, tacked up over the damask wallpapering. I recognized the style; many of them had been drawn by Templeton. 

The medic turned our attention to a large picture of a skull in profile. The main highlight of the drawing being the highly detailed brain scrawled inside of the skull. Points were marked and labeled with piles of letters. The handwriting was so small that the medic had to squint to scan it before beginning his explanation. 

“While coming through library archives in your quest to better understand the disease spreading through Yharnam, you read through an absurd amount of medical text, ready to pursue even the most obscure theories.” Here he was talking about Minimus, “We began work at once and discovered virtually nothing of use until we began to access the Valkyries’ library- more specifically their scholar who had already tried finding a cure. She turned us on to some helpful things and we came to discover that electricity is responsible for all the connections within the brain. It is its’ language so to speak.” 

The medic was talking so fast that I was losing him. I tried to glance over my shoulder, back at Frigga but the Abbot laid his hand on my head. He wasn’t squeezing yet but the threat was there and I resumed listening to the lecture. 

“We began to get excited, if we could find a way to speak to the beasts’ brains perhaps we could turn everyone back. It began with experiments in the name of Amygdala, the old god responsible for fear. We discovered an area where fear could be controlled and that region was named for her. We could force the beasts to be afraid of us, and although ultimately imperfect there are some places in the Nightmare where our loosed experiments cower at the sight of hunters. Things were still crude, the currents couldn’t conduct themselves the way we wanted too; a lot of the patients we practiced on didn’t make it.” 

“A necessary expense.” Minimus assured him. 

The medic nodded, “The brain of an unturned human was simply too complex for us. Beasts couldn’t report on their state of mind. We needed Halflings, just human enough to understand. That’s where the silver serum came in; implanting a mix of beasts’ blood and current conductors into the bloodstream allowed us more control. The Altered Boy, Rook was our first success.” 

“You knew what they’d done to him and you still cut his fingers off?” I accused. 

“I couldn’t be sure what would happen. It was the first time the serum had been attempted.” Minimus said, “And outright killing him would’ve meant the loss of our finest subject. In the end I believe the removal of his more bestial anatomy may have been part of the reason he was able to revert to his old ways.” 

“We began to scour Mensis for more subjects but they were weak. We’d taken the strong for earlier experiments and were left with those raised in the sour surroundings; unfit to bear the strains of our endeavors. We’re trying for complete control of the mind and you need a strong body to bear so much reconstruction.” 

Minimus grinned at him, “We can remove their morality, their curiosity, their violence all of the things that lead people into beasthood.” 

“How?” I asked 

“That is still…something we’re figuring out.” The medic admitted, “If you imagine the electric currents are like individual strings, we are trying to use our needles to knit them into cloth.” 

The medic brought forth two medal rods that narrowed themselves into fine points. He flipped a switch and a bolt of blue and white danced between the two points. 

“It takes careful prodding and is extremely difficult. We cannot see the strings and we don’t know where the right places to begin are.” 

“That’s where the Vileblood comes in, yes?” Minimus asked. 

“Yes sir.” The medic nodded, “She is somehow able to see, she has a weird kind of insight. She pours through our notes and looks over things and finds the simplest of solutions to what appear to be our greatest problems. All the same, even she hasn’t been able to translate the queer electronic language of the old gods.” 

“So if your methods are shoddy and awful what are you doing up here?” I asked. 

“Testing her theories of course.” The medic said, “Every day she comes up with new possibilities and we have hundreds of test subjects, both human and beast to try them out on. They don’t all have strong constitutions but your patron has been holding up remarkably well.” 

“That’s enough thank you.” Minimus said. 

He nodded and left the room. 

“You can’t…take…away humanity.” Frigga said after he had gone. She looked Minimus directly in the eyes but her voice was weak and strained. Her body betrayed her exhaustion. 

“Oh but I can. I am Kos’ chosen one. In addition I am the hunter’s chosen leader. Twice chosen, and partially by your hand. Soon you will come to recognize this. As Sterling was so eager to point out, your little scholar is smart. She’ll solve the problem before too long and you won’t think such repugnant things anymore. We’ll take away the pain you’ve gone through and remove the sick impulses you feel when gazing into the incongruous eyes of that Vileblood. You will forget your fear of fire.” 

He was terrifying, completely certain of himself. There was no false confidence he felt the truth of his convictions in every word he spoke. 

“Either way this earth will be cleansed. If I am able to correct brains as the people are born, much the better but if I must turn them all to creatures then so be it. This earth will be reborn. Human morality will be corrected. By my hands you shall be redeemed.” 

“By your hands..we are condemned.” Frigga retorted. 

Minimus picked up the metal rods and held one level with each of Frigga’s eyes. The electricity reflected in her pupils. Her gaze was wide with fear, but she gritted her teeth. The nerves would not consume her. 

He spoke to her calmly but his grip on the rods was white knuckle tight, betraying his anger. “I may not know as much as the medics about where to put these,” here he indicated the metal rods, “but I do know that even when applied correctly they cause a great deal of pain. You still have your sense of fear, so learn to watch your tongue lest my hand slip and you find these devices misapplied.” In response she spat in his face. 

I didn’t want to witness the consequence of her defiance. Without Minimus there to hold my head steady I was able to turn away but my ears buzzed with the clash of screams and electricity. He drove the rods into her sides, not tapping or nudging as the medics had but shoving and digging. He let them rest against fabric and skin, the wrath of the old gods driven directly into Frigga’s bones. 

The Medics heard the commotion and rushed in figuring something had gone terribly wrong with one of their most prized experiments. They were no less worried to see Minimus causing the trouble. 

I gathered all my nerves and lunged at him. He hadn’t expected any opposition and lost his balance easily. As he fell onto the wires, he swiped one of the rods at me and I felt for a brief instant the same pain Frigga had been enduring since our arrival. 

It felt like my skull was shattering. The current seemed to explode my bones, sending sharp shards slicing through muscle. My whole body tensed, I was in so much pain I couldn’t make myself scream, yet no outwardly visible damage. 

That had been a brief brush against my arm and it left me collapsed on the wire-covered floor. Thousands of wires were connected to Frigga amplifying the conductivity of the lighting. Her survival was impossible. 

Minimus stood above me, looking supremely pleased with himself as I lay there in paralyzing agony. “We’ll start on you tomorrow. Someone take him back to the cells.” 

There was a unified reply of “Yes Sir.” From the collected medics. 

I don’t remember the trip back. If we crossed the cold courtyard I felt nothing. I hadn’t even realized I’d made it back to my cell until Fwahe and Imogen started to shout questions at me. I knew they wanted me to talk but they might as well have been speaking another language. Nothing they said made any sense to me I was caught in a net of terror so tight it was squeezing the life out of me. It felt just like the snake, but there was no blade on earth that could sever these coils. 

“Sterling.” Anwen’s voice cut through the interference and pulled me back to reality. “Sterling are you ok?” 

I pulled myself off the ground and nodded. “I’m…I’m fine.” 

“Where’s. Frigga.” Fwahe said. She was not asking. “It’s not good.” I replied, “She’s being tortured..I don’t..it’s so bad. She’s stayed strong somehow, but she can’t last. There’s no way you can last through that.” 

Fwahe redoubled her efforts, pulling at the chains that held her until they made her bleed. In a way it was cathartic, she spent the rage we all kept inside. It was useless, there was no way we could fight back; her struggle with the cuffs was as futile as our resistance to Minimus. 

“I’ll kill them.” She swore, “I’ll kill them to a man.” 

“Y…you’ll…have…to…wait in line..” We all looked up to see Cato coming through the dungeon door. He was on his feet and they’d taken his many layers of clothing away. Someone had bandaged his shoulder. 

“How are you alive?” I asked. It was another Templeton case. Someone else had been brought back from the dead. 

“They thought…I was a corpse…this morning.” Cato said as he was shoved into his cell. He hit the ground hard and took a few minutes to compose himself before continuing, “T..took me to..like…be all cut up and s-shit… by the medics.” 

The guard secured Cato’s cuffs to the walls and floors. He wasn’t taking any chances. Cato was too weak to resist, he groaned in protest when he was forced to raise his arms over his head. The angle they kept his shoulders at left him panting in pain. The guard locked his cells door and gave it a tug. After he was sure it had been secured he left. They were so thorough about securing all of us. 

“Kos threw me a b-bone.” Cato wheezed, “M-minimus had..picked up Callum after…the tournament. Must’ve found him with…Temp’s body…” 

He didn’t know she was Vileblood. He didn’t know that Frigga was Vileblood. I wondered whether to interrupt and tell him. No one said anything so I kept my mouth shut and let him continue. 

“They all told…Callum to just kill me… I wasn’t like awake for this. This is just what he told me… but he wasn’t wearing red and black. He just swore…to help people y’know?” 

“Yes. He’s like that.” Fwahe replied. 

Cato winced, trying to adjust his position and relieve some of the tension on his shoulder. He spat and swore at the cuffs when they wouldn’t yield to anything more comfortable. “Brought me back…he did some kinda…frikkin’ miracle shit. They got angry at him…wasting supplies they said. He told them to go to h-hell. So here I am..still kicking.” 

“You’re not the only one.” Anwen said. 

We told him about Templeton. Instead of being confused he was overjoyed. He wanted to see the scholar immediately; he appeared to have no reservations towards her new species. It seemed that Cato’s most recent brush with death had done little to diminish his spirits. Once we had got him caught up on our situation he immediately launched into a tirade of curses and possible methods of destruction for Barristan. He had some pretty elaborate schemes but they all ended with a knife across the throat. He wanted Templeton suitably avenged. 

When she was brought back to the dungeon for the night he strained against all of his chains to give her a standing ovation. Her eyes, behind newly cracked glasses lit up when she saw him alive. Her hand immediately went to her throat to try and cover the scar. 

“There she is folks, my Vileblood Champion! Templeton Colette Kingsley ladies and gentlemen, the only one who’s ever kept that Abbot motherfucker’s blade at bay.” He called out, mimicking the manner of the tournament’s herald. 

The guards and Throat-Slitter shot him glares as we all broke into smiles. It was good to have our Cato back. 

“You’ve got just a mere extension on a pathetic existence,” Throat-Slitter said, turning to Cato after Templeton was secured. “And if I have my way I’ll ensure that you won’t keep that mouth of yours very long.” 

He unlocked Cato’s door and stepped into the cell. He removed one of the knives from his belt and turned it wrongways, holding it by the tip. The handle of the blade was ornate and covered with filigrees and fancy stones. A ruby of impressive size rested at the handle’s end. It was this that he pressed against Cato’s bullet wound, resting it on top of the bandages and pushing downwards. Cato gritted his teeth and bore what he could. Throat-Slitter increased the pressure on the puncture until Cato started to beg him to stop. The more he pleaded the greater the pressure Throat-Slitter applied became. 

“Coward.” Fwahe spat at him. “Torturing a man half-dead. I’m sure your master is very proud.” 

Throat-Slitter broke into a grin. He removed the knife handle from Cato and spun on his heels, striding towards the Vileblood. He held the knife by the handle now, and let it extend outward, clanging against the cage bars as he advanced. 

“You know what’s been bothering me, good Lady Fwahe?” He asked as he drew nearer. 

She didn’t reply, looking him right in the eye. Her glare was like the beasts, full of hunger and aggression. 

“It’s your eyes.” He said, “They don’t match. I can’t seem to decide if it’s better to try and replace one of them, or remove both.” 

“How about I eat yours. Tiny black beetles, I’ll crush their wriggling legs in my teeth and send their sights to Kos.” She replied. 

The key-keeper’s grin widened, “Your spirit becomes you, good lady, but I fear that the task you set yourself is an impossible one. You are held prisoner, not doing the holding. As my family before has done, I too shall leave my mark on you. This will not be one you can hide with a cloak.” 

“Abbot Minimus told you not to touch her, Sir.” Templeton said, “Explicitly sir, he said to not get overzealous.” 

“What’s one eyeball if he gets the rest of the body?” Throat-Slitter laughed. Templeton’s words were enough to stay his hand all the same. He didn’t want to disappoint the Abbot. 

The task of securing the scholar in her cell accomplished, the key-keeper exited. He’d made his point and relished the competition of future tasks. The click of his boots up the stairs was jovial, he might have been skipping. 

“Your shoulder ok?” Imogen asked. 

Cato nodded. He kept his head down, ashamed of the condition we’d had to witness him in. Being forced to grovel and beg like this wounded his pride nearly as much as they’d beaten his body. He was eager to turn the focus to someone else. “Which of us is going to be the one to take that knife-toting bastard out?” He asked Fwahe. 

“Get in my way and it’ll be the last thing you do.” She said 

“Noted, but be sure to save his teeth for me.” Cato replied. 

Fwahe nodded her agreement then turned her attention to Templeton. The second the key-keeper had closed the dungeon door she’d slunk down to the floor; let her façade fall away. She clutched her stomach and tried to get it to quiet itself. We all could sympathize. The food the guards brought us once a day was a hodgepodge of table scraps slapped into a bowl; but at least it was food. 

“You need to eat.” Fwahe said 

“I can’t.” She protested. We all tried but she couldn’t be convinced otherwise. It frustrated Fwahe to the point of yelling. Templeton flinched at the harsh words but she was building up a tolerance to having threats thrown at her. 

“Frigga would want you to eat.” Anwen said. 

“No. She wants me dead.” Templeton muttered. 

“You know she doesn’t mean that.” Imogen argued. 

“You want me dead too.” Templeton growled, “I’m a Vileblood remember? You’re going to have to hire an executioner to bury my body properly so I don’t come back…again. If we ever make it out of this you can go back and join the Hunter Community again but there’s no future for me anywhere. You all would kill me.” 

“Templeton I’d never-“ Imogen began. 

“Yes you would.” Templeton said, her whole body shaking as she struggled to hold in tears, “You don’t trust Vilebloods. Fwahe helped you all the way here and you won’t even hear her side of things. You’d kill me if you had the chance.” 

I couldn’t be sure if the lack of food was making her think this or if was truly her train of through but we were all astonished by the outburst. 

“As soon as I’ve killed someone then you can just blame it on that.” Templeton continued, “The Vileblood killed one of us so let’s kill her. That’s what it’ll come down too.” 

“We…we couldn’t ever…” Imogen stammered. 

“Don’t lie to me!” Templeton shouted. 

“Just calm down.” Anwen said, “This is-“ 

“I know it’s not helpful!” Templeton shouted again, she slammed her handcuffs against the cage bars. “I’m tired of being helpful. I don’t want to work for Minimus, but what choice do I have. He’s got all of you. He’s got Scarlett and the Twins. He wants me to eat Scarlett and the Twins. I can’t eat and I have to help him, I don’t get to choose but I won’t have you goddamn lying to me!” 

Tears glittered behind her glasses. They fell like rain turning the color of the cobblestones a few shades darker. The peace Templeton kept between everyone was crumbling. All of her strength had been used up and she could feel that her limits were fast approaching. The consequences of her failure would condemn us all, but she couldn’t become what she wasn’t. The smallest of our lot had been shouldering the biggest burden. 

“I…I didn’t know.” Imogen stammered. “There’s got to be another way to get you blood dregs.” 

“There isn’t.” Fwahe said, “There’s no way to drain a dreg without killing someone. Thousands of Vilebloods have tried it doesn’t work.” 

“But she can’t kill-“ 

“I’m not going to kill anyone!” Templeton shouted, “No one can make me do it, and once I lose my mind Minimus will be done with me and I can go back to being dead like I’m supposed to be. That’s what’s going to happen!” 

She had already made up her mind and our protests fell on deaf ears. She’d be one more fallen Vileblood on the cursed carpets of Cainhurst. Nothing would console her. A mix of the rooms collective agony and the looming threat of being attached to one of the electric thrones kept me awake. The cold came in and chilled everyone. It even got to the Vilebloods whose skin seemed to resist the cold phenomenally, began shivering. 

Waiting for morning to come might have been worse than its actual arrival. The Abbot must have been too busy to come collect us today. He sent a pack of his goons to get us. Templeton and I were marched out of the dungeon. The activity in the library hadn’t slowed in the slightest. They dropped her off first, leaving her by a series of shelves on the first floor. She hadn’t spoken to any of us since last night. I wanted to wish her luck but I was hurried away before I got the chance. Up the stairs and through the door. We all knew where I was headed, but struggling was pointless. I couldn’t overpower anyone here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	23. Chapter the Twenty Third : Unbearable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sterling has a REALLY REALLY BAD day.  
> Cato has a worse one.
> 
>  
> 
> lots of not-so nice nasty torture-y stuff here dear readers so be warned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think!

We started to make our way back to the sleeping quarters. Before we reached the final staircase I was led into a side room. It was packed with medics prepping patients. The guard grabbed the nearest one, and told him I was to be prepared as quickly as possible. Prepared, like this was a kitchen and we were some kind of complex recipe. 

“Kinda busy here.” The medic replied coldly, “Find someone else.” 

The guard spun the slim-shouldered boy around ready to start a fight. Grey haired, apron splotched with blood and too slim to fill out his robes; Callum looked back at the guard not with fear but with impatience. He wasn’t intimidated at all. The guard, realizing his size wouldn’t get him anywhere with the surly medic began to drag me away to somebody else. 

I locked eyes with Callum; pleading for help. He recognized me, then turned back to the guard, sighing dramatically. “Belay that. I’ll take him.” 

“Right then.” The guard said shoving me towards him. “Make it quick.” 

“You want this done quick or done right?” Callum shot back as the guards filed out of the room. As soon as they were gone he shut the door and turned to me, “They’re not serious about wanting you for this. You’re not even half strong enough.” 

“Gee thanks.” I said, sitting down on his examination table. Same old Callum, “What are you even doing here? I thought you weren’t coming with us.” 

“Didn’t have a choice. Minimus started rounding us all up after the tournament, marched most of us here. He said we might be able to finally find a cure, and it’s not like a lot of other options were available.” Callum explained, “Seems like it’s a good thing too. Someone’s gotta keep patching up that moron of yours.” 

“You know what’s happening here?” I asked. 

“Yes.” Callum confirmed, “But it’s too late to leave now. Not only would we be stopped but Winter is about to set in. We’d freeze to death before we got a mile from the place.” 

“Great.” I sighed 

“Well don’t think that renders me useless.” Callum shot back, offended, “I’ve been keeping your dear Lady Frigga from completely loosing it.” 

He rolled up the sleeve of my shirt and pressed a needle into it. An unseemly amount of strength and warmth began to course through me. 

“Careful now, no sudden movements. I’ve shot you up with a mix of saint’s blood and the strong stuff siphoned out of Sister Veera. You’re maybe a milligram from turning.” He informed, “They’re going to spend the day shocking it out of your system. You’ll feel like shit but you’ll be alive and that’s about all you can hope for right now.” 

The man behind the scenes. He had been keeping her alive all this time; committed to no cause except healing, maybe he could help to prolong Templeton’s sanity. 

“The girl you couldn’t save, Templeton…” 

“Thanks for bringing that up.” Callum snapped as he applied a cotton pad to the puncture mark. He pressed two fingers to the corner of the white material, fast turning red and carefully wrapped soft gauze around my arm. When he was satisfied the gauze would keep the desired level of pressure he removed his fingers and continued winding the gauze. 

“They brought her back as a Vileblood.” I said, “Fwahe’s Vileblood too.” 

“I know.” He replied. 

“They’re keeping them blood starved.” I said, “Templeton’s going crazy.” 

“They won’t let me near the Vilebloods. They know I’ve sympathized with them, healed them. I don’t care Sterling their still people to me.” He tied off the gauze and drummed his fingers on the examination table. “I will do what I can. You’ve got to get going though…tread lightly. Keep your anger under control, and don’t you dare ignore my advice this time.” 

I promised him I wouldn’t. Callum turned back to the patient he was working on before. I hoped that he wouldn’t be caught up in any trouble for our sakes. The guards were waiting at the top of the stairs. I took the steps slowly, one at a time. Callum’s warning made me feel like gasoline, I could be ignited at any second. The caution was misinterpreted by my escorts, they saw it as hesitation and tapped their feet with impatience. 

When I reached the top of the stairs they grabbed me, roughly, one of their huge hands on each of my arms. I snarled at them, actually snarled. They didn’t notice, continuing to half-lead half carry me down the hall. Anger in check, had to remember that one. 

It was just like the room where I’d seen Frigga. The orange glow of lamplight held no comfort, though the room was significantly less cold then the dungeon cells. The chair in the room was empty, awaiting attendants were making sure to line up their wires correctly. They looked me up and down, unimpressed. I didn’t seem a formidable subject. 

They tied me down with practiced ease. It was connecting the wires that took the longest. Each was placed according to a chart, with much checking and double checking. Even if I didn’t look like I’d last they wanted to be sure they did their job correctly. 

When all three of the ones assigned to me had verified the accuracy of their marks they began making their way over to the giant coils. They flipped their switches, doused the lights and got ready for their day’s work. I wanted to say something, fight with them, but the words escaped me. I knew how the bolts would feel when they hit me, and hit me they did. They kept it up for hours. I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t see anything. 

Every bolt launched they recorded. They kept every one of my reactions catalogued in their books. I wanted to rip their throats out, they went about it so blankly. They didn’t care an ounce for me, if I lived or died or cried. I know I screamed and begged for them to stop. 

Minimus came in at one point, and watched. They brought in a chair for him and he looked me in the eyes, hands folded calmly in front of him, observing. He would occasionally ask something of the medics, but I couldn’t put meaning behind the words. He never said anything to me. Maybe he knew how little hearing I had left. 

I didn’t know how Frigga had known to spit in his face, how she could keep her mind clear. My brain burned. 

I thought it would never end, but in a sudden snap all of the agony stopped. My head throbbed and my limbs shook. The blinding blue and white light was replaced by cool refreshing darkness. Slowly words began to snap into focus and become sentences. The three attendants worked quickly to get me out of my chair. 

“It’s finally worked!” That was the first sentence I could make sense of. The speaker was unknown to me, someone was parading down the hall triumphantly shouting the news into doorways. “It worked and on the Valkyrie girl too!” 

The three medics herded me towards Frigga’s room, ignoring aftercare procedures in lieu of the breakthrough. The doorway was packed with medics, but my attendants shoved our way through until we were at the front of the pack. I couldn’t keep my footing on the shifting wires; rather than hold me up they let me sit down, bracing me against one of the diagram covered walls. We had made it inside. 

There was a point that none of the over-eager followers would pass, just beyond the threshold so I still had a clear view of the room. Minimus, Frigga and Barristan were in the center. The Abbot was slowly removing her from the throne she’d been strapped too. Her blue eyes looked blankly at the crowd before her. They were the same way Fwahe’s sometimes got, she seemed to be looking through us, beyond us, focusing her attention on something else. I don’t think she could see me. 

They finished freeing her from the chair. With a key kept hidden in his robes, Minimus unlocked and removed the cage around Frigga’s head. He set it on the ground behind her, somehow finding a spot amongst the sea of wires. She didn’t move a muscle. She didn’t rub her wrists, stretch her neck, roll her shoulders, she just sat and waited. She was very different from the Frigga I’d seen yesterday and it made my blood run cold. 

“Stand up, take a bow.” Minimus encouraged. 

It was near mechanical the way she did it. There was none of her grace or confidence. She did not hold her head up high, or meet anyone’s gaze. She stood up, put her hands together and bent towards the observing crowd. It was a church hunter’s bow. 

“Promising.” The Abbot said, “But you could hardly consider it a breakthrough. She could easily be faking this.” 

“I assure you she isn’t!” the irritated voice of Frigga’s assigned medic piped up, “Go ahead test it. We have her under complete control, she won’t resist you.” 

Barristan stepped towards Frigga, “I want her to lick my boots.” 

He relished the power he had over her, as she bent her body and complied. Everyone in the room took the medic’s words more seriously now. This is not something she would’ve done of her own volition. 

After a few minutes of this Minimus bade her stop and sit down. Barristan’s grin further infuriated me. There was a jolt in my hand and I saw one of my fingernails shift into something sharper. My session must’ve been cut short, I still had all too much beasts blood in me. I gritted my teeth and tried to think of pleasant things. This would be the worst place to lose it. I had to stay calm. 

“Excellent.” Minimus remarked. He turned to the crowd, “Good work, all of you. You’ve done so much, struggled so hard. I think we should be suitably rewarded. Get me the boy with the gunshot room. It’s time our new Executioner took her first life.” 

Medics shifted out of the way to clear a path for eager guards who went sprinting down the stairs. Their master was in a good mood and they intended to keep it that way. Despite the brisk pace the goons had taken off with Cainhurst was an enormous castle. Cato’s retrieval left us all in an awkward anxious purgatory. 

I scanned the crowd for Callum, looking for assistance. It may have been damaged vision from the flashing lights but all of the medics seemed the same to me. I couldn’t distinguish one from the others, and they were all moving and talking. Nothing stood still. The only point of focus in the room was Frigga who sat unmoving on her throne, a very lifelike doll with no will of its own. 

They brought Cato in like a dog, led along on a chain by the key-keeper. He was pulled along by his wrist cuffs, the taut chain keeping them stretched far out in front of him. You could feel the pain of the tension it put on his shoulder. The medics squeezed against each other straining to create a path for them to pass through. They brought him into the middle of the room. 

“Bastard.” Cato growled at Barristan. 

The former Valkyrie glared and pressed his hands down on Cato’s shoulders, forcing the prisoner to his knees. Cato grimaced when Barristan’s fingers brushed against his bullet wound. 

“Today is the day you die.” Barristan said. 

He stepped out of the way and Cato was able to see Frigga clearly. The insult he had prepared for Barristan slipped away when he saw the state of our patron. 

“This will be the final confirmation.” Minimus said as he turned to face Frigga. “Miss Frigga Hemlock, I condemn this man to death. I would have you be the one to slay him.” 

Frigga stood again. Throat-Slitter removed a knife from his belt and placed it in her hands. She took it and stood over Cato. With her unhindered hand she pushed Cato’s head backwards, going for a cleaner shot at the neck. 

“Frigga what are you doing?” Cato asked dark eyes going wide with fear, “Hey. Hey Frigga come on it’s me.” 

She laid the cold blade against his throat. 

Before she made the decisive and final cut Throat-Slitter placed his hand over hers. “No. Make it slow. “ 

He led her hands to Cato’s fingers. 

“Frigga wake up!” Cato shouted. “Please don’t do this, you don’t have to do this!” 

Throat-Slitter was practically purring his instructions in her ear. “Cut off his fingertips first, one by one.” 

Frigga had to pry his hands open, he’d curled them into fists, resisting any way that he could. They had to get a bit inventive, Cato made so much trouble for them. They ended up using medical tape, wrapping layer upon layer of it around his palms and wrists, pressing it flat against the unyielding surface of a metal table. They further separated each finger until they were held steady by their bindings. 

Throat-Slitter had a thing for matched sets and precision. If he was going to send Cato to the grave the key-keeper was going to make sure Cato’s appendages mirrored those of the boy he loved. His hands still rested over Frigga’s, guiding her slice down and through the unwilling subject. They didn’t have to give her a command. Throat-Slitter didn’t have to give her a command, she moved to the next finger of her own accord and repeated the task. She did it exactly as she’d been taught. There could be no doubt of it now, Minimus had wormed his way deep into her core. He had her in a stranglehold. 

“Stop this!” I shouted. 

I was the only one besides Cato to protest the procedure. He watched the blood flow out of him in disbelief. 

No one listened to me, they urged Frigga to continue, and she obeyed. With another practiced slice Cato lost another piece of himself. 

I tried to remember Callum’s warnings but, being forced to watch this was too much. I couldn’t control it. All of my bones began to crack and shift. My body and blood swelled with sudden strength and power. Everyone was leaning in closer trying to get a better view, they were crowding me in and I wanted to tear their heads off for it. My hands lurched and nails became claws. 

At first it was enough to shock me, and I focused my breathing; tried to calm down. I was able to get my sense back and the claws shrunk away, but when Cato began to lose the fourth fingertip I lost control. I growled and people listened to me this time. I could feel things shifting, pieces being lost or rearranged. I wanted to tear things apart. 

My eyes seemed to be covered with a red film, everything tinted crimson. Thoughts dulled and aggression swelled inside of me. I pushed past the people in my way, they didn’t seem to be as large as they had been before. Dimly I noted a few of the medics glancing at me with apprehension but none made a move to stop me. They let themselves be shoved aside. 

I stood with Minimus and the rest in the center now. I had their attention. 

“How did you get enough blood?” Barristan muttered as he turned to face me. 

Words escaped me, I could understand but not speak. Before I even knew what was happening he was on the floor. There was a pain in my side. I think the key-keeper had stabbed me. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it should be. Barristan was down on his knees defenseless. Finally I’d been blessed with the upper hand. 

I didn’t need a weapon; my claws were stronger then swords. I snarled and he screamed. I went for his throat, my mouth was jaws, my teeth fangs. I could crush his head if I got my grip; I knew I could. Just as I was closing the distance I found something sharp and metallic wedged between my teeth. It hurt, slicing into my gums with its sharpened edges. Momentum bade me bite down on it, further damaging my insides. I recoiled the second I realized my fury had been unleashed on the Abbot’s blade instead of Barristan’s skull. It didn’t taste half so satisfying. 

Everyone began to react at the same time. Some medics took arms from their belt, ready to stand and fight, while others ran for the hills. My teeth clamped themselves together like a vice and though it shredded the roof of my mouth I yanked the weapon out of Minimus’ hands. I was bigger and stronger then I’d ever been before. 

I heard a loud pop and realized dimly that someone had started firing bullets. There was a pinching sensation in my leg and I came to the conclusion that I’d been shot though the metal projectile was no more painful than a bee sting. 

Throat-Slitter was throwing knives, I could feel them land but they too were like thorns or paper cuts. The pain was dim and inconsequential. I brushed him aside, I had paws large enough to do that now. I didn’t understand the scope of my new strength, what I perceived to be a half-hearted shove sent him flying into the wall. There was a cracking sound. 

“Bring him down!” Minimus shouted trying to regain control of the room. He was looking the room over, searching for a new weapon. Now might be my only chance to kill him. I charged towards him, severing wired connections and sending the medic’s notes flying. 

“Sedatives for Kos sake!” One of the guards shouted. 

Medics began to rifle through their apron pockets, looking for numbing mist or lead elixirs. Something that would slow me if not stop me. They were scared. Guards came at me with swords but I knocked them all aside. 

Frigga had been given new orders, indirect though they might’ve been. When Minimus ordered me brought down she took it as a direct command, the guards call for sedatives became her means to my end. She was swifter then the others, and I had no desire to attack her. Even if I had she was the kind who could not be caught, she rolled underneath me and shoved a needle into my chest. With her free hand she pressed a plunger and the world started to go fuzzy. 

I was slipping. 

I was sleepy. 

No matter what I did I couldn’t seem to hold myself up. With a half-hearted smile I fell over, crashing against the metal table, and Cato by proxy. When I closed my eyes the world was red. When they opened everything was dark and cold. 

There were flashes of blue. 

There were flashes of white. 

There was the sound of pens scratching paper. My blood felt cold and sluggish. When I opened my mouth I felt my chin go moist. There was blood all inside of me, pouring out instead of words. 

“He’s half-dead goddamnit let me fix him!” a distant voice shouted. 

I wished they would stop shouting. The loud noises were making the buzzing worse. It was like someone had let a fly loose in my brain. It kept bumping into things, softer and louder and then way too loud. I hated it. I kept trying to ask them to get it out but it was all made unintelligible by the blood. 

Then it went black again. 

The next time I woke up my mouth was blocked by clouds. I sputtered and spit, small clumps of them expelled each time until I felt I could breathe again. The room wasn’t red, things were back to their correct colors. I tried to sit up, and found myself pushed down by a set of bloodstained hands. 

“You’re unbelievable. I spend half an hour packing cotton swabs into your mouth to keep you from bleeding out and the first thing you do when you wake up is spit them in my face.” 

It must’ve been Callum. No one else spoke with the same variety of contempt as the cynical healer. 

“Sorry.” I said. 

“Hey how about next time you decide to.. I don’t know completely loose it, you control your sword eating urges. I mean Kos above Sterling what about that seemed like a good idea?” He asked 

“I was…going for Barristan.” I mumbled. Things were still coming back to me. 

“You missed.” Callum assessed. 

I tried to get him to fill me in, help me remember but it hurt to speak. He wouldn’t let me get up and I didn’t have the strength to fight him. Not verbally and not physically. He kept me down until my eyelids grew heavy, and I stopped resisting. 

My dreams were a tumble of images. Smiles and dolls, and everything felt cold. I ran from most of what I saw but was always stopped by an unyielding wall or a set of iron bars. The whole dream was permeated by screams, I woke up periodically; though for the most part I couldn’t tell where reality ended and the dreams began. As I struggled to keep my consciousness consistent I realized something familiar about the screams. They sounded like Cato’s. 

As I slowly came to my sense the screams got louder, more frequent. Wherever they had him it wasn’t far away. I was certain I’d be useless if I went to go help, I had become a beast and they still overpowered me. I couldn’t see why they let me live. 

I had expected to still be in Callum’s sick room when I woke up but that wasn’t the case. I was back in the cells. I could hear everything so clearly because it was happening just one cell over from mine, next to Fwahe. Cato was mounted on the wall like a blood-covered trophy, arms and legs spread out in an X. Our silver haired leader was nowhere to be seen. The screams were punctuated by taps from the Throat-Slitter’s boots as he danced around his victim. 

“I hope you know that I could run things better than the Abbot, Good Lord Cato.” The key keeper spoke as he worked, “He never keeps his patients in their chairs long enough. Frigga’s loyalty faded after she saw your little hunter friend had gone beast. The useless one, you know who I mean?” 

Cato seemed to be struggling just to breathe but he began to stammer and wheeze, terrified to leave the torturer’s question unanswered. After no small amount of sputtering he coughed out a shaky “Yes sir.” 

“He had to take her back to the chair. I was teaching her things, such sweet things. How to twist a knife, just right. Where to make your cuts. Years I spent learning these things, Good Lord Cato and she was applying herself so well.” He continued. As he talked he grabbed a fistful of Cato’s hair and turned his head to the side. He began to carve small notches out of Cato’s ear. 

Cato was now looking at Fwahe. The lone hunter’s eyes were narrowed slits, hungry and enraged. 

“And now I have to wait. I have to wait for her to be made mine again.” Throat-Slitter stepped back to admire his work, deciding how many notches he should put in and how they would look mirrored on the other side. 

“She will never be yours.” Fwahe growled at him. 

The key-keeper turned and grinned at her. He locked eyes with her, but when he spoke he directed his questions at Cato. “Who was it that held a knife to your throat and cut off your four fingertips?” 

Again there was a horrible cacophony of coughing. He spat out a bit of blood, and I noticed he was missing a few of his teeth. The boy who collected teeth had begun to lose his own. “I…it was L-Lady F-f-frigga, sir.” 

“Good boy.” Throat-Slitter grinned. 

“It’s a trick.” Fwahe spat at him. “She’s fooling you.” 

“She was ready to kill. She is to be Minimus’ greatest executioner. All she needs is a bit of fine tuning. The Abbot was going to save you for her but I don’t think he’ll mind the condition you’re executed in.” 

The key-keeper wrenched Cato’s head aside so that he could finish off the other ear. Three small triangles taken away. Piece by piece he was falling apart. I had most of my senses back, the extent of my fellow hunter’s wounds snapping into focus along with the rest of the room. He had a mosaic of multicolored bruises covering his ribcage. It was hard to tell what areas were cuts and what was just blood runoff. His whole body had gone crimson. Any other person would’ve gone unconscious or died, and I was unsure how he was keeping himself alive. 

I later noticed it wasn’t done by Cato’s hand at all. He didn’t possess any special strength that held him together through the agony. There were a half dozen empty blood vials littering the dungeon floor. Throat-Slitter had predicted taking him this close to death and was filling him with blood just so he could drain it again. In one and out the other. 

Throat-Slitter wiped his knife off on Cato’s pants, which had already collected a considerable amount of blood. His shirt was shredded from the knives. It lay on the floor in a heap. Half of a shirt collar was the only part left worn; stuck on to his neck with a mix of blood and sweat. 

“I’ve heard him beg and scream, it’s all so new and wonderful at first but it does get dull. I wonder how you will sound.” He said grinning his hollow grin at Fwahe. He checked each of Cato’s chains, making sure they were secure and at their tightest possible settings. Once confident that his half dead prisoner wouldn’t be going anywhere he strode through the door, taking care to lock it behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for reading!


	24. Chapter the Twenty Fourth : Symmetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fwahe attempts to shift the odds in her favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think!

Fwahe tracked his every move, a predator stalking her prey. Throat-Slitter met her gaze, apparently pleased to have some kind of challenge placed before him. 

“Do you know the extent of what I’ve done to Frigga? What I’ve done with Frigga? What the two of us have done together?” Throat-Slitter asked as he pushed open the iron bars between him and the Vileblood. “She is, well, quite frankly, unable to resist me.” 

Fwahe laughed, dark and guttural. A demon’s laugh, “Oh, fool, what mad thoughts possess you and make you think you can take what is mine?” 

“You speak to me of madness?” Throat-Slitter asked as he perused the knives at his belt, seeking something specific. 

“Yes.” Fwahe confirmed, “Your brain has gone bad if you think you can taint her skin with your touch. She is beyond your reach.” 

Throat-Slitter’s hands tightened around the wire-wrapped hilt of a black blade. It was not as carefully manufactured and well-worked as the knives he had cut into Cato with. The one he chose was full of nicks and dents, with carved symbols. “If you would like me to detail the specifics of my contact with your so-called lover then I’d be happy to oblige.” 

“I’ve no desire to hear your lies.” Fwahe growled. 

“Then my knife shall speak for me.” Throat-Slitter said. He began to step towards her. Every click of his heel made me want to cringe, sharp as it stuck the cobblestones. His steps sounded like bones breaking. He was interrupted only by the labored breathing of his last victim. His approach was calculated, he was taking his time deciding where to strike first. 

Fwahe showed no fear. She fixed her eyes on the knife’s point and tracked it carefully as Throat-Slitter made his approach. Fwahe’s widespread arms seemed the obvious choice. Or perhaps he would begin at her fingers, there was virtually no risk of danger there. 

He showed no concern for his own safety, confident he could repel whatever attacks the Vileblood might throw at him. He stepped in close, going so far as to tread on her leg, pressing the heel of his boot into her. He put all of his weight on it, scanning her face for a reaction. There was no twitch of pain or gnashing of teeth, only the attempt to retaliate with her unhindered leg. However since they were chained together she couldn’t move it far enough to be of any use. 

“Stand down, Good Lady. Much like your favored one there is nothing you can do to resist me.” He said, voice calm and even. 

Fwahe made no reply. She didn’t even spit in his face as I expected. 

“That’s more like it.” Throat-Slitter smiled. He leaned in, and let the tip of the knife trace across Fwahe’s skin. He started on her cheeks, trailing down her neck, across her arms, over each rib. He was probing, looking for somewhere she would flinch. He might as well be scraping his knife over a rock. She was not the sputtering mess they’d turned Cato into. She would not allow herself to become that. 

The key-keeper let his knife hover over old scars, she had two over her golden eye. 

“I don’t know why people don’t finish what they start.” He said, “Whoever began didn’t finish. You’re a mess, all lopsided. It’s really not good form. Allow me to fix it for you. I’ll begin by evening out your face.” 

He leaned forward, heel still cutting into her leg, increasing the pressure. He checked the position of her longest scars highest point. He moved his blade and let the tip of his blade savor the uncut skin of the opposite side. His arm bent out to better manage the balance of the blade. 

Then he made his first cut, slicing into the Vileblood’s face with the exact pressure and depth to match the ones she already had. Fwahe’s eyes burned with hatred. Her teeth were clamped together, unwilling to let the Throat-Slitter have the satisfaction of hearing her scream. His knife trailed mercilessly across Fwahe’s skin. Blood ran into her eyes, staining her eyelashes and threatening her vision. 

She blinked out what blood she could then closed it, trying to preserve her vision. The throat-slitter grinned, checking the original scar’s position before moving in for the next cut. He adjusted the bend of his elbow to maintain proper technique. 

If he had put less emphasis on good form, she may have never had a shot. 

His arm came too close and her sharpened, hungry teeth took the first bite of hunter’s flesh they’d had in days. She got her grip, fast and deep. 

The key-keeper was the one screaming now. He lost his grip on his knife and it fell to the ground. He tried to pull away, but Fwahe held fast, committed. 

It took him mere seconds to get his composure back. She had no way to prevent his free hand from doing it’s damage, and damage it did. Grabbing a blade from his belt, he spent no time on its selection, he stabbed her in the side. Fwahe’s eyes went wide but the arm in her mouth held back any exclamations of agony. He gave the blade a practiced twist. Her teeth loosened and he was able to tear himself away. 

Her blood looked wrong. There was a grey tint to it, inhuman and off-putting. 

She didn’t react to the two bleeding holes in her side. She licked her lips and grinned, “Your uncle tasted better.” 

Throat-Slitter had to take a moment before he plastered on his fool’s grin again. He removed some clean cloth from a pouch at his belt and wrapped up his wound. “You will regret that.” 

“Impossible.” Fwahe assured him. 

Now that her feet weren’t pinned she struggled to stand. The position she put herself in was no better than the previous. It forced her head and shoulders farther forward and left her back exposed. She wanted more range, if her teeth were her only weapon she was going to use them. 

She bared her teeth, taunting him “Frightened of my Vileblood like everyone else. You will coat yourself, drown yourself in that boy’s blood but mine is enough to stay your hand. It is enough to put fear in your heart.” 

“On the contrary, Good Lady Fwahe.” Throat-Slitter said selecting a silver-handled knife from his belt, “I intend to bleed you dry.” 

He came towards her more cautiously this time, skirting a front facing approach in favor of a side attack. He tested his own range, flicking his knife out and severing the tie on her coat. Veera’s skin slipped off her shoulder and exposed a series of scarifications from centuries ago. She snapped at him but didn’t manage to get purchase. 

“Your egregiously long lifespan has stifled the sting of my uncle’s knife.” Throat-Slitter remarked. “I fear you forget your station. You were marked, and I shall mark you once more. Remind you of the pain your kind deserves.” 

She planted her feet and gritted her teeth as the key-keeper’s knife tore open deep wounds, long healed. He would periodically use her cloak to wipe the fast-flowing blood from her back, making sure his lines followed the proper path. There were many lines to re-trace, and after the first few cuts, her will weakened. She began to let small groans escape. She tried to shift back into a sitting position, but Throat-Slitter wasn’t having it. He pressed his hand to the back of her neck, forcing it forward and down, bending her to the chains full extent. 

The corruption rune he was carving traveled all the way down her spine. He seemed to savor going over every bone. He was leaning over her, bearing down on her back trying to get the final cuts in. 

She made the twitches and groans more pronounced, to distract the key-keeper as she worked to reposition herself; carefully getting her feet into place. The next time she twitched, she jumped as well, as much as the chains allowed. It was enough so that her legs rested on the wall behind her, if only for a second. The chain from the floor was stretched to its breaking point, she’d learned its absolute length down to the last link. She took advantage of every inch. 

Power, built up from years of running and combat had turned her legs into one of her best weapons. She kicked away from the wall with all her might, ramming her bent head into Throat Slitter’s chest. 

It knocked the wind from him and he was pushed backwards, knife scraping across Frigga’s skin as he fell. She let out a genuine cry of pain but did not lose her concentration. 

Now he was beneath her. 

Before he could recover she was on the attack again, bashing his skull to the best of her ability using her feet and the heavy ankle cuffs. His blood was coating the cobblestones before he had a chance at retaliation. The sound was enough to turn your stomach. 

Only once his skull was shattered was she satisfied. 

She wasted no time with celebration, immediately moving on to her next priority; escape. 

“I will kick him to you. Get the keys.” She said, eager eyes looking at me with the first glimmer of hope we’d seen in days. 

Her strength must’ve been reinvigorated by the blood she’d consumed when she’d bitten the dead man’s arm. His corpse was kicked across the floor until it rested against the bars that we shared between our cages. 

The jailers hadn’t taken the time to attach me to the wall or floor. Even as a beast I hadn’t been a threat to them. It left me free and I pulled the keys from the blood covered stump of Throat-Slitter’s neck. It took a bit of searching for the keys that undid my cuffs, and even more to find the one to the cell door. 

“Hurry up, before his blood goes cold. Free me or you will never be forgiven.” Fwahe growled. 

Orders were followed, though perhaps not as quick as she would’ve preferred. There were so many keys to comb through. The moment she was free she lunged for the body. I left her to it and went to free the others, Cato and then Imogen and then Anwen. Imogen instantly began to do what she could for Cato. He was in shock. The emotions from having witnessed his own deliverance were too much. He couldn’t process the information as fast as we could. His brain needed blood, and every second he lost more. 

Anwen was trying to take control of the situation. She seemed to run herself through a checklist. She made sure we were as healthy as could be hoped. She scanned the cells for supplies. All she found was a single blood vial, Throat-Slitter had planned for this to go further. 

“They’ll know.” Anwen said, “They’ll come after us and kill us. We’ve got to leave.” 

“Not without Frigga and the book child.” Fwahe said. 

“Vilebloods don’t get to vote.” Imogen growled looking at the remains of Fwahe’s meal in disgust. It wasn’t as though it had been a nice scene to begin with. Starving animals rarely practiced table manners, Fwahe was much the same. 

“She’s clearly not going to eat us.” I argued, “She just freed us all. She gets a vote.” 

“I get more than votes.” Fwahe said, “Because I am going to rescue them, regardless of if you choose to assist me. ” 

“You’ll have my aid.” Anwen said, “We owe you a debt. Plus they’re our own.” 

“I’ll help too.” I said. “We can’t leave them behind to this.” 

“Well if we’re going to save them we’ve got to save Scarlett as well.” Imogen demanded, “Templeton will tell us where they are keeping her. She’ll know.” 

“The twins too.” Anwen said, and she was met with nods of agreement. 

“Arm yourselves then.” Fwahe said ripping the belt of blades off Throat-Slitter’s corpse. 

It had seemed like a lot of blades when it was worn by one man, but between the four of us capable of fighting it was hardly enough. Everyone except Fwahe got two blades. She had taken three for herself, two of them being the ones used against her. 

“What about Cato?” Imogen asked. 

“Ca..can’t do it.” Cato said speaking for himself. “I..I can’t. It hurts just..to breathe.” 

“We’re not leaving anyone.” Anwen said. She handed her knives off to Imogen and picked the bruised hunter up. “He’s coming with us.” 

Fwahe nodded, undeterred by the severe blow this would cause any and all stealth based proceedings. “Let’s go.” 

Due to the nature of Throat-Slitter’s work, the noise we created didn’t raise any red flags. As far as the guard were concerned it had been Cato screaming the entire time. This would prove to be their downfall. Fwahe and Imogen took the lead, both of them having experience with knives and close combat. I stood between them and Anwen, who had her hands full carrying Cato. She was worried about causing further damage so she held him in both her hands, somewhat like a baby. He lapsed in and out of consciousness. 

I searched through the collection of keys until I located the one that opened the dungeon door. It squeaked on its hinges as the Vileblood pushed it open. A guard stood to either side. She had expected this. Their eyes hardly had time to widen in shock before she killed them, ramming a knife into both their hearts at the same time. Both of her hands wielded a blade with equal skill. Fwahe didn’t want to risk leaving survivors. Her head swiveled from side to side, checking for additional enemies before motioning for us to follow. The coast had been cleared. 

“I could’ve taken one of them.” Imogen scoffed as she stepped through the door. 

“They’re no longer a threat, that’s all that matters.” Anwen replied. 

The door to the dungeon was connected to a small hallway. At the end of the hallway was a set of stairs. Guards would be patrolling them, and each would have to be taken down without a sound lest the alarm be raised. 

“Clear the way. We’ll follow.” I said volunteering to hang back with Anwen. Even after seeing the combat prowess Imogen and Fwahe displayed I felt safer staying with the largest Valkyrie. I was also fairly certain if I went with them we’d lose the element of surprise. I was bound to trip or shout and blow our cover. 

Vileblood and Valkyrie went up the stairs without a sound. Fwahe’s bare feet were always silent and the soft leather soles of Imogen’s boots lacked the clicking heels that caused the key-keeper to give away his position. When they went up the stairs their clothes were relatively clean. By the time they came down they were covered with blood. They hadn’t made a single sound. Anwen and I followed behind them as we went back up. They’d left the bodies of the guards where they’d been killed, slumped against the wall or splayed across the stairs. 

“Grab their weapons.” Imogen instructed. 

We added two swords and three daggers to our arsenal. I got to have one of the daggers, but the swords went directly to our vanguard. The cold steel reflected the flickering torchlight, making the blades seem like they’d been forged from hellfire. 

At the top of the stairs was another door, and that meant more searching through the endless ring of keys. 

“What’s going on?” A voice from the other side of the door asked, concerned with our frantic door knob jiggling. 

“J..just looking for the right key.” I replied before anyone had the chance to say something stupid. 

“You never forget which key…” The voice muttered. 

There was a click. The heavy wooden door was thrown open and we found an angry guard awaiting us. She held a two-handed broad sword, and didn’t hesitate to swing at us. We all managed to sidestep. Imogen made a slash for her throat, but the door-keeper leaned far enough to protect her neck. Fwahe planted her feet and drove the sword towards her enemy’s chest. The guard knocked her sword aside, the cold metal sparking when the two weapons collided. 

In the small landing we had the clear advantage, but this guard hadn’t been taken by surprise like the others. She did everything to keep us at a distance and prevent us from cutting her down, swinging her blade back and forth to prevent our advance. Imogen abandoned her sword for one of Throat-Slitter’s knives, and flung it deep into the throat she hadn’t managed to cut earlier. Blood ran from the wound. The guard’s knees buckles and her hands lost their grip on the broadsword. 

Fwahe grabbed the hilt of the knife and ripped it across and out, further spilling blood. Another death thusly ensured. She handed me the sword she’d wielded previously and armed herself with the larger weapon of the recently fallen. We carried on through the door. 

“We won’t get that lucky again.” Imogen said, “Someone’s going to be able to run and raise an alarm. What’ll we do then?” 

“We’ll have to be faster.” Anwen said. “Speed and surprise are all we’ve got.” 

The door we’d come through branched into several hallways, one of which I knew to be the guard’s barracks. I’d been escorted through them every time Minimus had sent for me. The other hallways were unknown, but the barracks were far from the safest path. 

“Which way do we go?” Fwahe asked. 

They all looked to me. 

“They always took me through the barracks, but its swarming with people.” I replied, “We might be safer taking one of the other paths.” 

“The devil you know is better than the one you don’t.” Imogen said, “At least we’ll be prepared.” 

I started down the middle path. With every step my nerves got tighter, my body became more tense. I checked behind every pillar and inside every alcove. None of the small divots or decorations were large enough to conceal a man, but I had to be sure. There was no door separating the hallway from the barracks. We began to hear signs of life, snoring mixed with the click of spoons in bowls. There was the shuffling of cards and muttered curses, the clatter of dice. 

The promise of people seemed to propel Imogen and Fwahe forward. They surged past me and rushed down their respective sides of the hallway. They didn’t pause before crossing the threshold into the guards’ quarters but rather burst inside, throwing caution to the wind. I rooted myself in the doorway, sword extended making every effort to protect Anwen, myself and Cato. I thought it would be a tough job but almost nothing made it past the two of them. Imogen and Fwahe were a force to be reckoned with, each able to maintain control over their half of the room. 

Fwahe began slitting the sleepers’ throats as soon as she stepped into the room, cutting off whatever advantage in numbers she could. Imogen protected her turned back, slicing down those who rallied themselves fast enough to launch an attack. By the time they began to overwhelm Imogen, the Vileblood had finished her task and began to slash at the mass of angry guards with her broad sword. She wielded it with the same speed and ferocity as anything else, dispelling those who would vanquish her. 

Few of them even noticed me, their attention was so focused on the two invaders. I had no trouble dealing with the odd one or two who made a passing swipe at me. Anwen stood behind me strong and firm, directing a slash or stab as necessary. She seemed to see the attacks before they came; something that one only learned with hard won battle experience. Nothing was able to surprise me with her at my back. 

Still a barrack full of guards was impossible for the three of us fighting to hold down. None of us could get into a position to block the exits and there were a number of guards who fled the scene running off to raise the alarm. I swallowed my nerves and forced myself through the doorway, helping cut short the lives of the last few guards in the room. 

The stones were re-painted in red. 

We hurried through the murder scene and up the next flight of stairs, hot on the trail of the escaping enemies. We only managed to catch one. The slowest fell to an expert throw from Imogen. The rest got away. 

“So much for surprise.” Imogen sighed as she pulled her knife from the felled guard. 

“Speed then.” Anwen replied. Her breath seemed heavier, more strained. Carrying Cato’s deadweight would surely take its toll. We didn’t have the luxury of worrying about what would happen when her great strength gave out, we could only push on. 

Once we were in the portrait-lined hallways Fwahe took the lead. She no longer referred to me for directions, turning into doorways and going down paths that were connected by service entrances and secret doors. Cainhurst was coming back to her and she navigated its passages with ease. She must’ve spent a great deal of time learning every twist and turn of the place. 

I lost my bearings quickly. I was only familiar with the route the guards took me down. Fwahe didn’t take us through the cramped elevators or outside into the courtyard. Those were two key places I was concerned about being spotted in, her deft navigation eliminated the potential threats. Our pace was brisk and for the most part we had the unhindered run of the hallways. Minimus had a large garrison to be sure but he concentrated his workforce into different pockets leaving the majority of fighting forces spread thin over too much ground. We had the advantage on them every time, word of our escape must’ve been spreading but not nearly as fast as we could run. 

Soon we came face to face with a set of intricately carved wooden doors. Fwahe had informed us that this would put us out into the library. I knew the room would be swarming with followers and beasts, it was far from ideal battlegrounds. 

“Is there another way in?” I asked. 

Fwahe’s hand was hovering above the door knob, eager to proceed with the evacuation. She took a deep breath and gathered her patience. There wasn’t much of it left, “There are many doors, but this is the closest and fastest.” 

I didn’t get the chance to protest or suggest another plan. She pushed opened the heavy door and stepped inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	25. Chapter the Twenty-Fifth : Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rush to evade re-capture and save everyone trapped in cainhurst continues.

We weren’t met with the disorganized beehive I had become familiar with. The door opened onto the second floor but there were no patients or caged beasts nearby. Most of the lights had been put out as well, the only illumination came from the floor below us. 

As quickly and quietly as we could, we made our way to the railing. Anwen set a half-conscious Cato down and looked over the edge with the rest of us. Ours eye had to adjust to the low light before we could make sense of what was happening. 

The first thing that came into focus were the followers. The first floor was covered with them, the black of their robes deepening the darkness of the shadows. They were all packed into a circle, the open space between them occupied by three individuals. Two of them were in chains, one of them was dressed in church robes. He was unrestrained, and as my eyes further adjusted I realized I recognized all three of them. Barristan, Templeton and Scarlett were the three who had all eyes on them. 

Barristan glanced around the room before holding his hands up, silencing the whispers passed between spectators. “Brothers and Sisters today we witness firsthand the conversion of a new follower. She has been resisting the efforts from our Abbot Minimus, resisting his attempts to purify her. He reached into the depths of death itself and pulled her back to serve his noble cause. She has spurned this by foregoing his offers of blood. She wanted to go mad, spoil her brain, the whole reason she was saved.” 

There were mutterings of disapproval throughout the crowd. 

Barristan took hold of a chain and pulled. Templeton was forced further into the circle, in the center of all the prying eyes. The chain was attached to a collar around her neck. She scratched at it, to avoid looking any of the spectators in the eye. 

“She is not as strong as she tried to be.” Barristan announced grinning, “And finally her hunger has gotten the best of her.” 

Here he tugged at another chain and pulled Scarlett, by similar methodology into the center of the circle. She was rail thin. Her red hair which I’d only ever seen nearly braided was dull and matted. She’d been Minimus’ prisoner for a long time. 

Imogen was turning about to start for the stairs when Templeton’s voice echoed through the library. 

“Please, I don’t want to do this.” She begged. 

Barristan rolled his eyes and shoved her towards Scarlett. “It’s the Abbot’s orders. You have to eat.” 

“I can’t do it.” The tiny scholar protested. 

Barristan yanked her closer to him, talking right into her face. Spots of spit sparkled on her glasses, “How many times do we have to go through this, Vileblood? We have to hold this ceremony so many times, you never commit. Abbot Minimus has insisted that the killing must be done by your hands, but I grow tired of waiting.” 

He grabbed Templeton’s hand and forced one of his shining silver knives into it. One of his hands locked itself over the scholar’s forcing the knife to be kept at the ready. Barristan pressed his other hand to Templeton’s back shoving her forward, closer and closer towards the red-haired prisoner. 

Imogen took in what was happening and could not be held back. “NO!” she cried and began to sprint for the staircase. 

The eyes of everyone below began to search the upper floors for the source of the sound. Even cloaked by darkness we wouldn’t last long before being spotted. 

Barristan had only been startled by the cry for a second or two, but it gave the scholar an opening. His grip loosened for mere milliseconds but that was the chance she needed. Templeton wrenched her hand away from Barristan, keeping her grip on the silver knife. 

“G-go to hell!” She shouted. 

She thrust the knife deep into Barristan’s chest, hoping to hit the heart. His robes and her hands were soaking with blood in seconds. 

Vileblood instincts took over. She lost her grip on the knife and tentatively licked a drop of her enemy’s blood from her fingertip. Templeton’s eyes sparkled with light they’d been weeks deprived of. She took another taste, cleaning more of the mess from her hands. Teeth became sharpened fangs, something in her mind went from human to animal and she made a lunge towards Barristan. 

Templeton didn’t make it very far. It seemed like the shadows themselves came alive and swallowed her. So many dark robes reached for her at the same time her short-lived rebellion was stifled in seconds. What should have been the sickening sound of slurping blood was replaced by the hard packing sounds of firsts on skin. They were not satisfied with the scholars’ performance. Barristan was swallowed up by shadows as well, though his lot was steering him towards medical attention. 

We weren’t going to let Imogen go into a hopeless battle alone. Anwen left Cato where he was and took the sword right out of my hands. She wanted to fight as fiercely as she could. That left me with knives. I ran with her and Fwahe, falling to the back of the pack. The two huntresses were much faster than me and they reached the stairs in seconds. Imogen had gone halfway down before being stopped by a wall of red-and-black. 

Slow-burning rage sparked into a sudden fire, combined with the proximity to long lost love were enough to turn Imogen into a far stronger hunter then I’d ever seen before. She held the stairs, preventing the advance of Minimus followers, all on her own. It was a task that could hardly be handled by ten men, let alone the one. Her sword was a blur of constant motion, often blocking a half dozen enemy swings at a time. The second she took a step back and began to lose ground, was the same instant Anwen entered the battle. She rooted herself on the stairs, and didn’t let a single guard get past. Fwahe took up her position at Imogen’s side. Her broadsword swept back and forth in wide arcs, trying to let us gain ground. Despite their early hold on the stairs it did no good. There were too many of Minimus’ loyalists in the room. The Vileblood spat in the faces of her enemies every time she had to take a step back. Losing ground meant losing time. 

Suddenly she saw her opening, diving through the black-robed front lines and forcing her way down the stairs. She hacked open a path for herself. Imogen struggled to follow after her, it was slower going. She would seem to become swallowed up by the enemy for full minutes. I lost hope of her surviving several times but she would reappear just as I’d been ready to count her for lost. 

I stood my ground with Anwen holding the stairs. If the followers were able to break through they’d surely find Cato and make quick work of him. We hadn’t even thought to leave him a knife. The only reason Anwen and I stood a chance was because the staircase forced the followers into a funnel. They couldn’t overwhelm us with numbers, so long as we stood our ground. It was hard for me to find my footing and launch successful attacks being reduced down to a knife. It didn’t have the reach or strength needed to contend with the followers’ flurry of swords. Things got easier when Anwen passed me her sword, picking up a dead man’s mace which was much closer to her kirkhammer. It increased my range so I could get a few stabs in here or there, but the blade was heavy and cumbersome. I longed for the familiar feel of my own axe, a weapon I could at the very least handle the weight of. 

While we enjoyed the advantage that the stairs lent us, Fwahe and Imogen were on their own. If they stood still for so much as a second they were overwhelmed. The mob of followers circled and surrounded them, but neither was giving in so easily. Numbers alone wouldn’t win Minimus’ battles for him. I lost track of them, as well as myself. Thoughts slipped away and turned into reflexes, everything narrowed in focus. I finally felt like I was part of the battle. Worrying about losing time or where my allies were suddenly stopped mattering. Every thought in my head had been reduced to a single repeated action. 

Cut. 

I became a knife, a blade, a tool. If Anwen wanted something specific done she’d tell me. My body would start to leap into action before my mind had processed her request. So long as the single word, cut, was foremost in my mind I was not a liability. I could hold my own, attacking one or two of the followers, hell bent on spilling my blood. Instead I spilled theirs. 

This was not to say we swept through the room unhindered. There was plenty holding us back, and by no means did we manage to kill even a fraction of the followers. Complete slaughter wasn’t our goal, we weren’t the Executioners who’d come to Cainhurst long ago. We were here to liberate two of our own. 

Scarlett’s hair blended into the red detailing on the robes of our enemies. I couldn’t get a good read on where she was after the circle of followers had split into a war party. Above the commotion of battle, the whirring gears and clattering machinery dominated our eardrums. It was impossible to tell whether they were brining reinforcements in, or sending injured followers out. 

Imogen was the first to return from the fray, cradling Scarlett under one arm. That same arm was badly cut, leaking blood. She fought her way up the stairs, taking several slashes as she forged ahead. The followers tried to shove her back down. 

Anwen wasn’t having that. She left me alone to hold the stairs. Shouldering past the onslaught and paving a path to safety. A slash from above cut her across the cheek. She returned that slash by shoving her sword through her enemy’s body, spilling blood in great quantities. With Anwen’s help, Imogen was able to reach our position, Scarlett in tow. They stood in relative safety, helping us hold the stairs. 

“Where is Fwahe?” I asked 

Imogen wiped some of the blood of her foes from her face and shrugged, “Couldn’t see anything.” 

We stood on the stairs as long as we dared, but side doors began to squeak open. More and more followers poured into the room. They began to scurry up ladders, trying to scale the shelves to the upper floor, and cut us off from the other side. They regularly tumbled back to the floor, unable to find strong handholds in the shifting volumes. They began to toss the books down, scattering their contents and making stairs of the shelves. Every second we waited moved us closer to death. The clock worked against us, as sinister as any of the swordsmen we cut down. 

“Fall back.” Anwen said, “We can’t afford to give her any more time.” 

“We can’t leav-“ I began. 

Before I could complete my sentence Anwen fixed me with a glare. There would be no argument. 

I didn’t want to listen to her. Fwahe had saved us all, and we were leaving her to the wolves. Every part of me wanted to protest, but I wouldn’t stand a chance on my own. I could not hold the stairs by myself. 

We turned, Imogen and I taking Scarlett between us, and sprinted up the stairs. Torrents of sweat streamed across my back, tricked down my neck. It collected in my collarbone and soaked my skin, the physical expression of our exhaustion. 

We reached the top of the stairs, with the army on our heels. Anwen stopped for a split second to grab Cato before we reached the door. He gave a groan of pain in protest, more sentient then before. It was only after we crossed the threshold of the door that I realized we had lost our guide. I didn’t know where to head and Fwahe was far behind us, swallowed by shadows. We really shouldn’t have left her. 

All the same they’d trusted me with the keys. I was the only one who’d been taken through the castle. When we were faced with a fork I turned left, and hoped I wasn’t leading us down a dead end. 

The whole way Imogen was encouraging Scarlett, with soft words and soothing sentences, coaching her along. Scarlett slowly regained her strength. Soon she didn’t need our shoulders; she was able to take her own steps. There was hunger and starvation carved clear across her form but the promise of escape drove her along as fast as the rest of us. 

I threw open the next door we came too. We were shocked by cold wind from the courtyard which blasted us full in the face. We spilled out onto a balcony, several stories above the ground. I turned around and took a few steps back inside. I was scanning for options but there were no other corridors to turn down, and Minimus’ armies were all but upon us. Scarlett and Imogen began to clamber over the railing of the balcony, dropping onto the decorative stone details below. We gripped the heads and wings of gargoyles as we scrambled through the fast-falling snow. My boots were slick and slippery on the wet snow, if not for the fearful momentum and constant movement of my mad scramble I might’ve tumbled to my death. I didn’t stay still for a single second. 

Anwen and Cato were in constant danger. Anwen had to rely solely on firm footing. The stones beneath her boots cracked from the weight they weren’t built to bear. She shifted Cato over her shoulder, needing the extra hand. Feet alone couldn’t survive the escape. Cato bit back tears as his battered ribs and chest were bounced against Anwen’s shoulder. 

None of Minimus’ men were desperate enough to follow us. They simply changed tactics and began to set arrows to bows, firing them at us. Anwen took a shot to the shoulder and nearly lost her grip on Cato. Sharpened arrow heads found their purchase in the mortar between bricks. They bounced off the teeth of Gargoyles. We kept our heads down and carried on. 

Everyone had close calls. I couldn’t make up my mind, was it safer to keep my face forward and look to the next hand hold or have my glances shoot over my shoulders, making their arrows easier to dodge. We were losing our focus. Scarlett’s feet slid out from under her. She reached our desperately, grabbing Imogen’s leg and taking an arrow to the side as she dangled over the edge. Imogen’s quick reaction and reserves of strength saved the redhead’s life. 

As quickly as the rain of arrows began, it stopped. There was a shout and all of the red-and-black robed archers turned their attention to the snow-covered grounds below. I risked a glance over my shoulder and caught sight of Fwahe and Templeton down below. Templeton’s orange hair stood out like a firebrand in the sea of soft white. She was constantly tripping, tangled up by chains that had yet to be undone. Fwahe would bound ahead of her only to find herself constantly turning back to help the scholar. Fwahe would pull chain links from snow-covered statues and bare-branched bushes. She stood over Templeton every time, protecting the slim scholar to the best of her ability. Several arrows lodged themselves in her cloak. From this distance it was impossible to tell if they were stopped by the thick fur or if they cut through to skin beneath. 

We carried on, a small measure safer, thanks to the Vilebloods’ distraction. That was until Scarlett let out a scream. 

A grey-skinned beast, the likes of which I’d never seen had sunk its claws into her arm. The creature was winged, and had been lying in wait, standing along with the gargoyles and striking when least expected. Scarlett thrashed about, falling from the wall, her weight pulling the creature down with her. The two of them tumbled to the ground, the gargoyle letting out a high-pitched scream as it fell. Scarlett ended up on top, the snap of the creatures bone echoing beneath her. She pried its claws loose. and ran off, a slight limp in her step. She was following Templeton and Fwahe’s tracks. The archers focused their attention on her, but she was a sickeningly small target. A few shots met their mark, but nothing was enough to stop Scarlett. 

Imogen, Anwen, Cato and I had regained the archer’s attention. By this time we’d finished with our wall-scaling adventure and had taken off across the courtyard. Even at the speed our feet crunched across the winter grounds, we were only seconds ahead of death. A few arrows sliced me as they flew past. I had to pull one out of my lower arm, spilling red onto white. 

“Way to have my back.” Fwahe spat at Imogen as we caught up to her. She was standing on an elevator platform, holding position until we all piled onto the small metal plate. 

“It was my call.” Anwen said, “They would cut us off from….” 

Seconds before the Vileblood seemed like she was ready to wage all out verbal warfare. Anwen’s voice stopped us all. It was pained and weak. She’d stopped talking to spit out a mouthful of blood. I looked over and cringed; the long wooden shafts of arrows were dappled all over her back, down her spine and lodged in her leg. She’d been bringing up the rear, a position she was used too. Under normal circumstances her plate armor would have protected her, but she hadn’t been allowed to keep it in prison. 

“I’m fine.” She coughed when she noticed our stares. 

She was not fine. 

The elevator traveled upwards, rattling along it’s cables. I thumbed through my keyring trying to find the right fits for Templeton’s cuffs. 

“How did you guys make it out of the library?” I asked her. 

“Fwahe knew a secret passage way. There was a false fireplace that she pulled me through.” Templeton explained. 

“Drink.” Fwahe interrupted. She was holding a vial of blood out to the scholar. 

Templeton, who had spent so long resisting they’d nearly killed her for it was powerless to refuse Fwahe’s command. She took what was offered and began to slurp it down. I could only presume it came from one of the recently slain followers Fwahe had needed to slash through to save the scholar. How she’d had time to stop and collect blood dregs was beyond my grasp. 

“D…do..you..have any more?” Templeton asked, blushing and avoiding eye contact. She was ashamed of the question but she had drained the vial completely. Hunger was now in her nature. 

Before Fwahe could reply the elevator jolted to a stop and we began to file off the elevator. Anwen was the last to leave, struggling to keep her hold on Cato. Her arms shook from the strain, threatening to give out. She barely made it off the elevator before it was called back to its starting position. At this pace she couldn’t keep up. 

“Give him to me.” I said taking a hold of Cato and pulling him onto my back before she could protest. It was crushing taking on the deadweight. I regretted the decision instantly. 

“It’ll hurt him.” Anwen argued 

“He’ll get over it.” I replied. 

Our pace was slower than ever before. We had lost speed and surprise, and the enemy was closing in. Everyone was injured to some degree. There was a part of me, weakened and exhausted that just wanted to surrender. 

“We’re never going to make it.” Templeton muttered. She was walking along next to me. Walking. We’d had to slow so much. I struggled for each step. 

“We have to.” I replied. “We’ll be dead if we don’t.” 

The clicking of the elevator behind us kicked up our pace a little bit. Imogen took a position alongside me, and pulled Cato over between the both of us, trying to lessen the load. His feet dragged the floor. Without Cato, Anwen was able to keep up with us now. She started to take the lead. 

“How are we even going to save Frigga?” I asked, “I’ve seen her, trust me she will not willingly come with us. Minimus has her under his complete control.” 

“Leave her to me.” Anwen said. She spoke with such authority, that for a few seconds I forgot we were in a mad dash for our lives. Her confidence made it seem as though this were just another night on the hunt. 

Then we heard the thunderous sound of footsteps as the elevator dumped our enemies out into the hallway. This must have been how the beasts felt when we ran them down, we were just the follower’s prey. They were on our feet in seconds; we couldn’t accelerate or stop and stand our ground. Walking was all we could manage. They were running, sprinting, swords drawn and teeth bared. Fwahe dropped back from the lead, shouting directions at Templeton. The scholar strode ahead of us and took charge of the navigation. Fwahe toppled vases, tore down picture frames, anything that she could toss into the oncoming hurricanes path to slow it down. It did little to help. 

Before they had eclipsed us we reached another staircase. This was one I recognized, it would lead to the medics hallway, the converted sleeping quarters. We’d spent all our strength running here, all the same, I would rather be speared by swords then forced into one of those thrones again. If it came too it, I vowed to run myself through, rather than endure Minimus’ torture again. 

Anwen pushed past Templeton and shouted for the broad sword. Fwahe seemed hesitant to let it go but passed it over, exchanging it for Anwen’s mace. The largest hunter took the lead. Once we had gotten a few feet up the stairs 

Fwahe began to tear up the carpet. Every few feet she slashed her sword through the ancient velvet. I couldn’t understand why until she pulled torches from the wall, tossing them behind her and setting the carpets aflame. The followers stomped the fires out with their boots or smothered it with their robes. The Vileblood kept repeating this process. It was not nearly enough to stop them, but perfectly adequate when it came to slowing the army down. She was buying us more seconds, scraping together more time. 

Anwen was the first to reach the summit. She didn’t stop to celebrate her triumph over the stairs, nor did she turn back and offer her help to us. The doors which contained the makeshift medical bays were ignored. One staircase was abandoned for another. She quickly climbed the smaller second flight of stairs and reached the corridor where Minimus carried out his electric experiments. She crashed down the hall, slamming medics out of the way poking her head in each door, checking for Frigga. 

“It’s at the end of the hall!” I shouted, “Her room is at the end of the hall!” 

I was hauling Cato up over the last step, pulling him by the shoulders while Imogen pushed his legs towards me. If we could just move him a few feet further I could dump him on Callum’s table. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about him slowing us down. The medical help we all needed was within our reach. 

“Come on Imogen.” I panted, “Just a little further.” 

She nodded and threw all her strength into another shove. Cato crossed over the stairs. Taking on most of his weight nearly knocked me over but I steadied myself and carried on. None of the medics could slow Anwen’s progress; she had climbed the second flight of stairs and was almost at the end of the hall. We turned into the doorway I’d been taken through and tossed Cato onto one of the many empty beds. I didn’t stop to see if Callum noticed us. I didn’t want Anwen to face Frigga and Minimus alone, so there was no time to waste.


	26. Chapter the Twenty Sixth : Execution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Execution indeed, but whose?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think!

Templeton took the second flight of stairs slowly. She walked past the doors in a horrified half-hypnosis, not believing what she was seeing. It was her work that made these horrors possible, the weight of that realization hit heavier than a kirkhammer. I grabbed her arm as I went past, pulling her along with me. It seemed to shake her out of her internal crisis. She followed me down the hall. 

The medics were still shell-shocked by Anwen, they weren’t fighters and the huge huntress had spooked them. What few guards were present had already charged towards Minimus, the abbot was more important than a handful of scientists. I could’ve cut all of the scholars down by myself if I had wanted too. They didn’t seem like they were going to put up a fight. 

Anwen on the other hand wasn’t so lucky. 

We pushed through the door, our skinny bodies sliding past the broad shouldered guards. We didn’t keep our freedom for long. They took Templeton by the chain hanging from her neck. I never managed to find a key for it. They grabbed me by my shoulders. 

Anwen was held by several guards. Frigga stood opposite her, just out of the huntress’ range. The broadsword she’d taken from Fwahe was resting, useless, on the ground. 

Minimus calmly looked up and waved his hand, bidding the guards to bring us further into the room. 

Templeton kept her head down, avoiding his gaze. The Abbot calmly came towards us. He put a finger underneath Templeton’s chin, lifting it until the sheepish scholar was forced to look him in the eye. 

“Finally come to see the results of your work?” He asked her. 

She did not reply. 

The Abbot dropped her chin and shrugged. “Allow me to demonstrate. Frigga, pick up that girls sword and put it through her heart.” He instructed, indicating Anwen and the fallen broadsword. 

“No!” Templeton shouted. “You can’t do this!” 

“I’m not doing anything.” Minimus said, watching with sinister satisfaction as Frigga stooped to take hold of the fallen sword. “Really you’re the one who’s responsible for all of this my darling Templeton. We couldn’t have done it without you.” 

Templeton wouldn’t stop shouting at Minimus. The guard punched her in the stomach, knocking the breath right out of her. Templeton doubled over, struggling to stand. Frigga took no notice of any of us. She had picked up the broad sword, adjusting her grip. Anwen stared her straight on, locking eyes with the leader of the Valkyries. 

“This isn’t you, Frigga.” Anwen said, watching as the point of the sword was lined up with her heart. 

Frigga’s powerful arms drew it backwards, her legs rooted in a strong stance. She was going to drive every bit of strength into her strike, as she had done many times when fighting beasts. 

“You don’t have to listen to him.” Anwen said, “He doesn’t own you.” 

When Anwen spoke she did it calmly and evenly. If Frigga was to be her executioner she was going to say her last words with dignity. She didn’t stammer, her voice didn’t crack, there was no hesitation. Anwen had gone up against beasts twenty times her size, and it stood to reason that to her, death was just another large beast. She would face it without fear. 

Frigga did not respond. Her blue eyes had frozen over, devoid of emotion or response. She thrust forward, driving the blade ahead of her. 

There was a sharp clang, Frigga sprung back. 

Her sword had struck a metallic tray, hurled through the air by none other than Imogen, at precisely the right moment. The guards and Minimus all turned to apprehend her, and Imogen was quickly restrained. That had been her goal. 

While all eyes had been focused on the expert knife thrower, Fwahe had slipped through the shadows and stood between Minimus and Frigga. The Vileblood’s brain was spinning, trying to churn out words she’d spent days picking out. She’d strung whole sentences together only to forget them when the harsh reality of Frigga’s condition stared her straight in the face. 

“W…what did they do to you?” Fwahe finally asked, reaching a hand out to Frigga’s cheek. 

Fwahe’s fingers might as well have brushed the skin of a corpse, the recipient made no reaction. You could see the Vilebloods’ world fall apart, whole constellations seemed to shatter in her eyes. They were exploding stars and expanding black holes. She closed her them, for a bit longer than a standard blink, eyelashes interlocking. When her eyes flicked open again they were devoid of anything but hatred, and they set their rage on Minimus, straight through to his soul. 

“What did you do to her!?” Fwahe screamed. 

Minimus sighed, “Were you not listening before? I have done nothing. This is all the work of your scholar.” 

Fwahe turned her fury towards Templeton. “What did you do?” 

“I…I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Templeton replied, her voice hardly more than a whisper, “Th..they were just theories…” 

Her voice trailed off, picking back up in panicked whispers trying to provide an explanation. The more she danced around things the angrier then lone huntress became. 

“Well fix her!” Fwahe demanded. 

“I don’t know how.” Templeton said, her voice cracking into a high pitched whimper “I don’t…I hadn’t…” 

She trailed off her mind working faster than her mouth as she raced to stay ahead of the guilt and disgust that threatened to consume her at any second. Templeton was lost to her thoughts. Fwahe gave up hope on the scholar’s assistance and turned back to the Abbot. Worried guards started to step towards her, afraid she was going to annihilate their master. Minimus shook his head, turning their strength away and allowing Fwahe the run of the room. 

I knew why. Frigga would defend Minimus with her life. Fwahe wasn’t going to take up arms against the Valkyrie any time soon. Minimus had everyone exactly where he wanted them, and was reveling in his new and complete control. 

Fwahe took the mace Anwen had given her and held it out towards Minimus’ throat. “Fix her. Fix her right now.” 

The Abbot was not intimidated. Minimus laughed. He got a grip on the mace and pulled it away from the enraged Vileblood like a parent taking away a naughty child’s toy. Fwahe hadn’t realized her own exhaustion until it was laughing in her face. She was disarmed so easily. Her rage shifted to fear and confusion. 

“There is no fixing to be done. She is perfect as she is.” Minimus concluded, “She is an Executioner now, and she shall serve the same task as any other before her. She will put steel to flesh and eliminate her patron’s enemies. As she now works for me, you will find yourself falling on the list of offenders.” 

Minimus waved his hand and the remaining guards stepped in and took hold of Fwahe. They had no sympathy for the Vileblood. They shoved her to her knees and forced her hands behind her back. She fought against them to the limits of her strength, but her heart wasn’t in it anymore. Imogen cringed when Fwahe was forced to the floor. Something had changed in her. Once again she’d watched the Vileblood take the fall and be captured right along with us. Fwahe could’ve escaped by herself multiple times but she stood steadfast, going down with our sinking ship. 

“She’s no enemy of Frigga’s.” Imogen said, speaking for Fwahe, as words seemed to have escaped the stunned Vileblood. “But you are right to find her your own enemy. She bashed your sadistic key-keeper’s head in.” 

This gave the Abbot pause. Word of his torturer’s death was yet to reach him. To have the news delivered by an impudent knife thrower irritated him. He opened his mouth to retaliate but Imogen wasn’t finished. 

“She stayed in our library, never losing control, never attacking us. Cato’s bit more people then she has.“ Imogen was speaking to Frigga now, pleading eyes locked on our leader. “She refused to leave Templeton behind, she distracted everyone so that we could get away…Fwahe is not our enemy. She’s a Vileblood but she’s not something you have to kill.” 

There was still nothing, no change in Frigga’s statue face. Try as she might Imogen could not chip away the ice in her eyes. 

“While I am most amused at your persistence and misplaced loyalty to a leader you have no chance of saving, my patience grows short.” Minimus said, regaining control of the room and drawing Frigga’s attention. “You still need to run that girl through for me, Frigga.” 

Frigga’s head dipped in an obedient nod, accepting Minimus’ command. None of us had time to protest. Her movements where mechanical and efficient. She did exactly as she was told. 

The sharp edge of the blade plunged through fabric and flesh, right through Anwen’s chest. Rivers of red soaked clothing, trickling down through the rat’s nest of wires and pooling on the cobblestones. 

Anwen’s hands gripped the edge of the sword, though she was too late to stop it. The sharp edges cut through her hands. Frigga had not held back. You could see the tip of the sword poking out of Anwen’s back. She had been run through, exactly as Minimus wanted. 

Frigga looked down at her hands. They were coated in gloves of fresh crimson. Slowly her eyes traveled from the blood on her hands to the wound she’d just inflicted. Her grip loosened. The ice in her eyes cracked and melted. 

“Anwen…?” She asked. 

Anwen’s green eyes, wide with pain met Frigga’s. “T..that’s right…” she said confirming her identity. 

Anwen’s legs buckled and she fell to her knees, unable to support herself. The last of her great strength was giving out. Blood splashed and shifted as she dropped into the ever-expanding pool below her. Frigga’s hands let go of the sword. 

Frigga dropped to one knee, staying at eye level with Anwen. Icy tears flooded her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.” She said, pulling Anwen’s head into her shoulder, embracing the huntress she’d just slain. 

“It’s..not your…fault.” Anwen replied, her voice was hardly more than a whisper. She had to swallow back or spit out blood between words. 

“Shh…shh..stop it, stop it you’re fine.” Frigga said, her shoulders shook. Her head was buried in Anwen’s shoulder but I was sure that diamond tears were falling from Frigga’s eyes once more. 

“I..I am glad..to…have…served you, Lady Frigga.” Anwen wheezed. 

Those were her last words. Frigga wrapped her arms around Anwen’s shoulders and held her close. The Abbot looked down at the two of them, hands curled into fists and face full of contempt. 

“Enough of this.” Minimus said snapping his fingers, “I told you to kill her not mourn her. You’re an Executioner for Kos’ sake.” 

“Yes sir.” Frigga replied, her voice as cold and emotionless as before. She sounded the same, mechanical and docile. All the same she made no movement to comply with the Abbot’s request. Frigga did not stand. Her arms didn’t leave their position at Anwen’s shoulders. Minimus glared at her. 

“There are many others that you need to slay for me. Pick up that sword.” Minimus commanded. 

“Yes sir.” Frigga said again. She gently removed the sword, wiping Anwen’s blood off on her skirt. There was nothing mechanical about her treatment of the blade, she held it with grace and purpose. She cleaned it with care, not efficiency. 

Minimus opened his mouth to give another command, but he was interrupted by the silver-haired huntress. His eyes widened with shock when his servant spoke back. 

“Yes sir, there are many in this room that need slaying.” Frigga said. 

The abbot’s eyes widened in surprise as Frigga thrust the broadsword through the nearest guard. She sent the sword completely through him, sideways, shattering ribs and destroying vital organs. Her arms shook with effort but her face didn’t show any signs of strain. She sidestepped as the next guard came for her, easily ducking inside his strike and driving the tip of her blade through his neck. It was another move with all of her power behind it that she made look simple. Frigga fought as though she were dancing rather than killing. 

She was dancing with death for a partner. 

I could feel the guards grip on me tense. He was unsure whether to jump in and assist his brethren or hold his position. Minimus wasn’t issuing any commands, merely looking on at his failed experiment with horror. Every guard who had laid a hand on Anwen was now dead on the floor along with her. The wire cables covering the ground were slick with fresh blood. Frigga had slain every spare guard in the room and was starting towards the ones that held us. 

She swung her broadsword down over her head. Frigga was aiming for the skull of one of the guards restraining Templeton. The sword was deflected by the curved blade of the Abbot’s scythe. Metal rang out sharply, Frigga’s sword bouncing off Minimus’ weapon. 

“Stand.Down.” Minimus ordered. His tone was sharp and absolute. 

Frigga cringed. Inside there was a part of her still unrecovered, completely dedicated to the Abbot’s orders. She struggled to fight herself and her opponent at the same time. 

“No.” Frigga replied, “This was the battle we were always meant to have. My trial by combat. My right as you promised.” 

She swung her sword at him. Minimus pushed her away before she could get close enough to connect. He hadn’t even used the blade this time. He defended her advances with the pole of his scythe, ramming the end of it into Frigga’s chest, pushing her back. She slid over the slick wires, nearly losing her footing. 

“Is this how you wish to die?” Minimus asked. 

Frigga charged towards him once more, taking action instead of talking. 

“So be it.” Minimus laughed. He swung his scythe low, catching Frigga by the ankles and knocking her feet out from under her. She landed hard on the ground. 

He stepped towards her, swirling his scythe over his head as he advanced. The scythe slashed down towards Frigga. She rolled away seconds before it struck. Minimus’ weapon cut copper cables but nothing else. Slick blood made sliding across the floor somewhat easier, allowing Frigga too put some distance between herself and the Abbot. 

“Just stand still. Take your death with dignity.” Minimus said. 

Once again Frigga seemed to be in conflict with herself. Her legs locked, going completely rigid. It took a moment before she shook herself out of it, returning to her feet and regaining her stance. 

Minimus didn’t wait for her to attack, he continued his offensive assault. He drove her towards the door, towards us. Frigga’s back pressed against one of the guards holding Templeton. The guard laughed and shoved her closer to Minimus. 

Frigga staggered, caught off guard by the attack from behind. She ducked a swipe from Minimus’ scythe, rolling across wires to stave off his attack. 

Neither of them had counted on the overzealous nature of Minimus’ guard. He felt as though he’d been pulled into the battle, called in to assist by Kos herself. Abandoning his hold on Templeton’s chain, he charged forward, past Minimus. He waved a short sword above his head. 

Frigga slashed across his throat before he had the chance to attack. He was just another dead guard to add to the pile. 

“Anyone else?” Frigga snarled. 

“Hold your positions.” Minimus commanded, “She’s not worth your lives.” 

They kept their sparring inside the room now. Our side had become off limits and neither made efforts to drive the other towards us. 

Minimus continued to prevent Frigga from getting any attacks in. His reach was far superior, she couldn’t come close. Without the snaking chain of a threaded cane to assist her Frigga’s reach was limited to the length of the broadsword’s blade, and it just wasn’t cutting it. Minimus drove her towards the back wall. 

Her one advantage was speed. The Abbot wasn’t nearly as light on his feet as Frigga. She could confidently find footing on top of the wires, but Minimus sank beneath them. The only strikes Frigga logged occurred when the Abbot had to stop and untangle himself from the copper spider’s web. He cut into the cords with a vengeance, small slivers of wire clinging to his robes. The sharp ends of severed cables snagged the folds of cloth, catching Frigga’s skirt and Minimus church garb in equal amounts. Both had the bottoms of their garments ripped to shreds. 

“Why do you try so hard?” Minimus asked as the two of them circled each other, dancing around the throne Frigga had been shackled too, “Who are you trying to save? Your lover is Vileblood. Your scholar’s invention is the source of all the pain you endured here. Surely that newblood hunter can’t be worth the struggle.” 

“You know nothing of honor and loyalty.” Frigga said, swiping at Minimus’ side. He deflected the strike with the scythe’s pole, “Each of them was under my protection. I have risked my life for them, and they return in kind. There’s not one amongst them who I would leave to your sadistic clutches.” 

Minimus’ face twitched in irritation, “Frigga you are mistaken.” 

He used the scythe like a hook, catching her by the shoulder and flinging her across the room. Frigga slammed into a table covered in trays full of surgical instruments. Her shoulder was bleeding and her body, surely, was badly bruised from colliding with the metal table. There was a sharp crack. 

Frigga screamed, the hardly-healed bones in her leg shattered anew. Seated in a chair, with medical attention and a proper brace the recovery had been going quite well, until this point. She groaned in pain as she pulled herself from the wreckage. 

“I am not like the people I employ. I take no pleasure in hurting you, any of you. It is the healing I wish to see. It is not my fault the process of healing is so often a painful one.” Minimus explained as he strode towards Frigga. He was predatory in posture, enormous and imposing. The silver-haired huntress had never seemed so small. 

She was struggling to pull herself to her feet. Her right arm had slammed into the table first, seconds before her full weight collapsed on top of it. There was a good chance it was broken. It wobbled and shook each time she attempted to put weight on it. Frigga struggled to her feet without it, unsteady, she stood on wobbly legs. The metal brace on her injured leg held it together enough to take weight, but she would lose all of her speed. Her left hand scraped the wall, bracing against the stones to help hold her stance. 

Frigga had the sudden realization that she was unarmed. The broadsword had been flung out of her grip, and lay a few feet away. She started towards it. Before her weight had fully landed she started to slip. Her left hand sought something to grip, lest she be felled once more. Her fingers locked around the electricity’s control switch. 

She pushed the switch down and pulled herself up. The next few steps she took were weak, but she was able to pick up her sword once more. Arcane electricity lit up the room, white and blue and blinding. The Abbot was undaunted by the arcane magic, crackling through the room. 

Minimus didn’t slow his attacks. Frigga wasn’t able to evade him as she had before. Her arms were ripped open by the scythe’s blade; it rent long scars from her shoulder to her elbow. The blood trickled down her arms and softened her grip on the broadsword. The weapon was heavy, hard enough to hold in two hands. Frigga was struggling to wield it with one. The blade became more shield then weapon, occasionally raised to block attacks. She didn’t have the strength to strike back. 

Soon even blocking was too much and the sword slid from her grasp altogether. Minimus pressed her backward as he attacked. He was going straight for her neck now. Raised arms were ripped to ribbons, the only defense left as she lost ground. Frigga’s legs shook and her retreat was awkward and slow, held up by her fractured fibula. 

They reached the throne. 

Frigga’s hand gripped the chair’s arm for support. As soon as she touched it she screamed and withdrew her hand. The metal rods were resting on the throne’s arm and her finger had brushed the tip of one. The pain was nearly enough to make her collapse but she stood her ground. 

Gathering all her strength Frigga gritted her teeth and picked up the rod, the only choice of weapon left to her. Without the gloves the medics used, there was no barrier between her hand and the electric currents. It was all she could do to keep from screaming. 

Minimus swung his scythe in from the side, slashing past her injured arm, straight for her throat. 

Frigga let her legs do what they’d been begging too for so long, they collapsed, and she dropped to the floor ducking the Abbot’s blade without a second to spare. She fell face first into the wires and cobblestone. As such I expected her to be the one screaming. 

She wasn’t. 

As she had dropped down she had thrust her arm up, driving the metal rod into Minimus’ chest. He lacked any of the precautions or proper writing that his patients had been provided. This was thousands of volts of arcane power slamming into his stomach. The pain was so overwhelming he couldn’t move. All he would have to do to stop it was take a step back, and yet he was paralyzed. 

His pain seemed to give Frigga power. She thrust the rod harder into his chest, pulling herself upwards, back onto her feet. She pushed against Minimus, backing him into the throne. She repositioned the rod, letting it rest against his leg as she started to strap him into the chair. 

Minimus guards realized their Abbot was in danger. They let go of us and started towards Frigga. 

All of the energy pent up inside Fwahe, all the power pushed down to her knees, shot out. She bounded twenty steps ahead of them, picking up Frigga’s fallen broadsword before the guards had taken weapons out of their sheaths. She cut down anyone who got to close. Soon the guards began to swarm her. 

Imogen went for the fallen medical instruments, throwing scalpels, cleavers, saws, anything with an edge into the enemies. Templeton looted a short sword from one of the followers Frigga had killed and began a battle of her own. I followed her lead, picking up a sword and heading over to help the scholar. The chain from her collar was an enemy far greater than the guards. It snagged on the exposed wiring. It acted as a conductor, sometimes shocking her but mostly slowing her down, snagging and stalling her attacks. Despite the handicap she was able to hold her own, and hardly needed my assistance. 

None of the guards were able to stop Frigga from securing Minimus to the throne. He protested in whimpering whispers, hardly audible. He tried to bribe and beg his way out of the situation, but Frigga was stone faced and unyielding. She took one glance at the Abbot, secured and subdued. He was going through the same torture she’d been forced to endure. 

“There is one last thing that needs slaying in this room.” She said. She braced herself and picked up the metal rod once more. The anger boiling inside her in tangent with the grim task ahead of kept her from showing signs of the electricity’s effects. In one swift decisive jab she slammed the metal rod through Minimus’ eye sending lightning straight into his skull. 

It was agony divine. 

He died screaming. 

By the time the Abbot’s cries ceased we’d taken care of all the guards. 

“Turn it off.” Frigga said. 

The last kill had taken all of her strength. Her one good leg was shaking, threatening to give out. Imogen went over to her, offering a shoulder to lean on. Frigga was tired down to the bones, but she was still trying to lead. Templeton followed her orders and pushed the switch on the wall back up, cutting off the current. 

“Frigga, I-“ Fwahe began 

“We can sort everything out later.” Frigga decided, “Right now we need to get out of here, where’s Cato? The twins?” 

“We left Cato in one of the medic’s rooms. I knew Callum was in that one, I thought he might help. We didn’t exactly stop to make sure he was looked at.” I replied, “Anwen was the only one who had seen the twins and well…uhh…” 

I could kick myself for having brought the recently slain huntress up. That was the kind of thing you didn’t talk about. 

“Let’s go get Cato.” Frigga said, graciously ignoring my blunder. 

We all nodded and turned for the door, happy to follow our patron’s instructions. The medics cowered in their throne rooms. We were covered in blood, we’d been heralded by several death screams. They were terrified and had no desire to join the bodies on the floor. 

Nearly everyone had evacuated the sick room. Patients lay confused in their beds, scared by screams and the sudden disappearance of their doctors. We found Cato right where we’d left him, and in the exact same condition. He hadn’t been touched. As we went over to see if he was even still breathing, Imogen broke off and scouted for supplies; there was plenty to be had. 

Templeton leaned in over Cato’s unconscious form pressing her ear to his bloodstained chest, seeking a heartbeat. She held herself there for a second before moving on, pressing fingers to his neck and wrist, looking for a pulse. We waited, hoping for the best but fully expecting the worst. 

Templeton licked her lips and swallowed before speaking, “He’s weak, weaker then you can possibly imagine. He’s really hot to the touch too; I think he has a fever.” 

“Where’s Callum?” Frigga asked, “You said this was his table right? He’s not one to abandon his post.” 

“Shit.” I exclaimed, “He must’ve been called to take care of Barristan.” 

“Why would he need to take care of Barristan?” Frigga asked. 

“I might have stabbed him.” Templeton said, then she clarified, “In the chest.” 

“Might have?” I scoffed, “There’s no might have about. She stabbed him in the chest and told him to go to hell. It was awesome.” 

“Nothing less than the bastard deserved.” Imogen agreed. 

As much as we wanted to get going, Imogen insisted we spend a few minutes patching ourselves up. Everyone was bleeding from one place or another. Frigga’s arms were of particular concern, we feared the worst. Minimus’ scythe had left its scars on her skin, they were deep and despite the pressure we put on them, bled profusely. We plowed through boxes of bandages and rags trying to clean ourselves up. 

Templeton combed through the doctor’s stock of herbs and tried to pick out a few that might help with the pain. We chewed dried leaves and powered flowers praying they’d take the edge off. We weren’t able to determine the degree of damage done to Frigga’s right arm but Imogen endeavored to put it in a splint in case it had indeed been broken. It was shoddy work, even I could tell; but it wasn’t as though the rest of us could have done any better. 

The bed that Cato was on came equipped with wheels and it was decided he could be pushed along with us. Stairs would become a challenge but everything else would be exceptionally easier to navigate then before. Templeton and Fwahe volunteered to take charge of the table. 

“You’ll need to be our vanguard, Sterling.” Frigga said, “Scarlett you go up front with him.” 

I swallowed my apprehension and nodded, taking my position in front of all the others. It was strange to find myself more qualified to lead our party then Frigga. She needed a lot of help walking. Imogen had tried to convince her to borrow one of the medic’s wheelchairs but Frigga wouldn’t hear of it. She said she was tired of sitting in chairs. At least I wasn’t alone at the front. Scarlett was starting to come back into her own and gave me an encouraging smile. 

Imogen grabbed a satchel full of medicine bottles and dumped them out onto the floor. She shoved knives, scalpels, small hammers, anything she could throw into the sack. She never wanted to be shot on ammunition again. 

There was a small sink in the room. We all bent our heads under it and drank our fill of the cold water, pumped in from outside. It chilled our teeth but ran cool and refreshing down our throats. The water worked wonders for our exhausted constitutions. Scarlett drank the most of any of us. It seemed like she hadn’t been able to drink her fill since she disappeared. When we were as rested as we were going to get, we descended the stairs. 

Fwahe shouted directions saving us from any more balcony blunders. The wheels of Cato’s table squeaked. They got caught on the carpet and the larger cracks in the cobblestone floor. The table slowed our progress. Each of the hastily thrown down barricades that Fwahe had constructed during our dash to the top had to be cleared away. We all had the sense that this was costing Cato time and worked to speed up the process however we could. 

“Where would they take him?” Templeton asked as she pushed aside the gilded frame of a smashed portrait, “Barristan, I mean.” 

“His room.” Fwahe said, “The Abbot and the Turncoat like to think themselves kings. They would expect a private physician.” 

“Ok but we just came from the bedrooms, right?” I asked, “They’d been turned into those experiment rooms.” 

“Those were just guest rooms.” Fwahe scoffed, “Places to shove visiting dignitaries so they didn’t bother the royal family. You didn’t really think they’d make a king cross a courtyard to sleep, did you?” 

I shrugged, shoving a toppled chair aside, finally getting the path cleared for Cato. More questions nagged at my mind but I tried to bite them back. We hadn’t run into a single guard since leaving Minimus’ final resting place. That worried me more than anything else. They all seemed to have just vanished. We made it through the hallways without a single scuffle breaking out. 

Cato’s table barely fit in the elevator. We had to lodge it in diagonally for it to fit at all. The corners of the table scraped the edges of the elevator shaft, making a horrible screeching sound as the machinery descended. We sent Fwahe and Templeton down first, then Cato. So much for Scarlett and I being the vanguard. There wasn’t room for anyone to ride with the table. Imogen, Scarlett, Frigga and I brought up the rear. I was expecting an army, or some archers waiting for us in the courtyard but that too was empty. The only enemy was the dead gargoyle. 

The wheels of Cato’s table did not want to go through the snow. They churned the white powder up into tiny mountains, blocking their own paths. Fwahe and Templeton half-shoved, half-carried the table across the snow. The lone huntress shouted directions herding us over to the side door she and Templeton had come through. It was busted open; Fwahe must’ve kicked it down. 

We cleared away the debris and escaped from the cold courtyard. The hall was covered in corpses, smashed skulls or slit throats. It was work I once again credited to the Vileblood. Templeton’s eyes lingered on the pools of their blood. They stayed longer then she cared to admit. 

“Don’t bother.” Fwahe advised, “Once their blood goes stale it’s not worth it. You have to take it fresh.” 

“I wasn’t going to do anything!” Templeton said blushing and turning away. 

“None of you will be consuming any blood on my watch.” Frigga said, fixing them with cold stares. 

Neither of the two Vilebloods commented on her statement. They exchanged a look and continued on in silence, wheeling Cato past the murder scene. We traveled past the doors of the library and several dining rooms. 

“They’ve probably regrouped in the throne room.” Scarlett hypothesized, “It’s the only place big enough to hold all of his followers. Is there a way around it?” 

Fwahe nodded taking her concern into consideration. “It’s not the fastest and there’s lots of stairs.” 

“Sterling and I can switch out if you get tired.” Scarlett offered. 

“I don’t get tired.” Fwahe replied. She told us to turn left and we cut through a large kitchen. Like the courtyard the kitchen was eerily devoid of people. 

Fwahe took us through a side door. I would never have noticed it if she hadn’t pointed it out too us. Cato’s table was just slim enough to scoot through the tiny door. We had to pry chunks of the doorframe out to get it to slide through, the old wood crumbling away easily. 

The servant’s quarters had tighter hallways and were far less opulent then the rest of the castle. There were no portraits or mirrors decorating the walls. The doors had none of the intricate carvings or ornate filigree common throughout the rest of the castle. The stairs were falling to disarray, most of them constructed of wood as opposed to hewn from stone. Navigating them was quite the trial. Each step had to be tested, and even with our caution they were treacherous. Our feet would break through the rooting wood and have to be pulled back out. 

The only people we saw were corpses; most of them were dressed in Executioner’s robes. It seems Cainhurst hadn’t been taken without a fight. 

I knew we were close, after slipping through a door the finery of the castle returned. There were the old velvet carpets on the floor. Moth eaten tapestries covered the walls. Even in their deteriorated condition, I could tell they had once been quite beautiful. Statues were common in this hallway, carved from marble and other polished stone. They had jewels set into the eye sockets of the people they depicted, shining sapphires and emeralds. When the Cainhurst Massacre had occurred they hadn’t even bothered to loot the place. 

“He’ll have taken one of these rooms.” Fwahe said as we continued down the hallway. She kept her eyes to the floor. Most of it was still covered in dust, but there was a distinctive trail of clean carpeting. We ignored the dust and continued on the path rubbed clean. The steps left off at a large, closed, red door at the end of the hall. There were warriors and hunting hounds carved into the varnished wood. 

I tried the handle only to find it locked. I began to flip through the ring of keys, trying each in turn. Fwahe came over to inspected it herself. She grabbed the ring of keys from me and selected a silver one. She got the lock to pop open on the first try. She turned the knob and stepped inside. 

We were met with the sound of snarling dogs, two enormous wolves leapt at us. They were held back by twin silver collars and chains. They had black fur darker then I’d ever seen but it was their eyes that gave me pause. They weren’t beast’s eyes at all. They were pale blue, and seemed to contain knowledge of things beyond our realm. I recognized the color and aura of them instantly. 

“Shut up!” someone shouted from inside the room, “You don’t have to bark at everything.” 

We left Cato in the hall, and continued past the dogs. Whether the others thought the same as I did or not, none of us attacked them. We all slid past risking scratches or bites to get deeper into the room. 

The bedroom was far more opulent then the ones the experiments were carried out in. There was a sitting area with velvet couches and hand carved end tables. A stone fireplace dominated one of the walls, the mantle covered in trinkets. 

We continued past the couches, into the bedroom. The bed was a monstrosity of a thing, four posted, draped with gossamer curtains and capable of sleeping seven comfortably. At the moment it just housed one. The Vileblood’s assumption had been correct; Barristan was laid out over the embroidered bedcovers, soaking them with his blood. He was attended by Callum who must’ve told the twin wolves to shut up when we came in. 

“What do you need now?” Callum asked. He didn’t look up from his task to see who we were. He was used to Minimus’ interruptions. 

“We need your help.” I said. 

There must’ve been desperation in my tone that simply wasn’t used by the Abbot’s followers. Callum looked up instantly. The corner of his mouth threatened to turn up into a smile. The medic was happy to see us. 

“Don’t you always?” Callum scoffed. 

“It’s urgent.” I said hoping to cut the formalities short. 

“I am a little busy.” Callum said. 

“Yeah well the guy we want you to help isn’t a filthy traitor.” Imogen quipped. 

“Be that as it may, I took an oath, and I’m not going to let anyone die on my hands.” Callum replied, but he didn’t seem particularly dedicated to Barristan’s cause. He only kept us in suspense for a few seconds, “Bring him in.” 

“Don’t put that mongrel in my bed.” Barristan snarled. 

“That bed does not belong to you.” Fwahe said 

“Look we can argue about who gets to fuck on it later.” Callum sighed, “If you’re so desperate for me to give this guy some attention I recommend you bring him to me.” 

The medic was as surly as ever, but we complied with his wishes all the same. Scarlett and Imogen kept the dogs distracted while Fwahe, Templeton and I pushed Cato’s table past. Frigga had stayed back with Callum, he wanted to be sure to look at her arm and leg once he had the chance. Before we’d even left the sitting area he was ranting about how she really never should have ridden into battle with a fractured fibula. With Minimus dead it seemed like we might be moving closer to avoiding situations like that. 

“Him again?” Callum asked when he looked down at Cato’s mangled body. 

“It wasn’t his fault this time.” I defended, “Their torturer, Throat-Slitter did all this.” 

Callum nodded and shooed us away, giving himself room to work. 

We filed out into the sitting room. We could hear Barristan complaining loud and clear. 

“Guess you missed his heart.” I said to Templeton. 

“Shame.” Scarlett sighed, “Barristan is the reason all of those hunters disappeared. He killed dozens, and should die himself.” 

We were all surprised to see Frigga shaking her head, “We need him alive.” 

Perhaps she still had a nostalgic sense of responsibility towards the former-Valkyrie. Frigga had known Barristan longer than any of us, but I still couldn’t fathom what stayed her hand. He had clearly abandoned any redeemable qualities for delusions of revenge. 

“Why?” Fwahe asked. 

“The crimes committed by Abbot Minimus need to be recorded. As of now the English Hunting Community has no figurehead, no leader. By right of conquest that title will fall to me, I killed the previous leader ergo I shall now assume command of the council. If someone contests my claims I’ll need a witness.” Frigga explained. 

So this was not a result of sympathy. 

“Do we not count?” Scarlett asked. 

“They might see my allies as biased.” Frigga replied. 

“And you really trust Barristan to tell the truth?” I asked. 

“The council has ways of ensuring the truth of his testimony.” She answered. “After he testifies I will put him on trial.” 

We sat and waited as Callum worked. The dogs eventually stopped barking at us, they lost interest. Templeton had her eyes glued to them, watching their every move. 

“I watched him turn them.” She said softly, “When we first got here…he wanted to show me all the work, the research he’d been doing. He thought that since they were twins the serum might take a little differently; but it didn’t.” 

“Is there any way to get them back?” Imogen asked. 

Templeton shook her head, “Minimus never wanted a reversal.” 

Sage and Salem gone to madness before us, was just another load of grief for us to carry. Templeton admitted what we’d all been too afraid to say, and now that we’d stop to take a breath the sadness we’d set aside caught up. I couldn’t get Anwen’s body out of my head. I hated that we’d left it there in the same room as our expired enemies. We should’ve moved it. 

Callum called us back before too much longer. He had cleaned up Cato as much as anyone was ever going too. We were all relived to see a distinct rising and falling in his chest, he was breathing. 

“He is about as close to death as they come.” Callum said, “I’ve patched him up and given him more blood then it’s even safe to take. He’s more beast then boy right now, in terms of blood type. Most of his ribs are broken, I’ve set them but I swear to Kos if he so much as tries to stand he’s going to kill himself, and that’s really just the beginning.” 

“Shit.” Imogen said, wiping tears from her eyes. 

“Indeed.” Callum agreed, “If you want him to live you really can’t let him go frolicking about trying to fight things. Sedate him if you have too, but keep him down.” 

“He’s not going to like that.” Templeton said. 

“He’s also not going to like being dead!” Callum shouted throwing his hands up in exasperation, “You ask my advice and I gave it! Keep him in bed for a month and he might have a chance to regain his strength. Healing is not something you rush, you Valkyries ought to learn that.” 

With the matter of Cato’s health clarified for us the medic went on to examine Frigga’s wounds. It didn’t take nearly as long to heal her. We all went back to Callum in turn. He mixed up remedies, bound cuts and stitched scars back together. The medic’s immense knowledge and fast work got us back to our best, eliminating injuries from the list of things we needed to worry about. Barristan spat curses at the medic the whole way through, assuring him his pay would be severely docked. He was appalled that Callum would prioritize other patient’s care over his own. When Callum lost patience with Barristan he shot the turncoat up with sedatives until Barristan was snoring on the blood stained bed. 

We looted the room for fresh clothes, everyone except Fwahe eager to change out of the mess of blood and gore. We peeled layers of bloodstained fabric away and replaced them with cotton. Callum was able to persuade Fwahe to get her back bandaged, hoping to stave off the infection no doubt brewing in the gory, matted fur of her cloak. Everything in the room had a stale scent to it, like dust and old books. The smell was strange but much better than the copper tang of blood. With fresh clothes and cleaned weapons we were as put together as we were going to get. We prepared to make our exit. 

“Callum, won’t you come away with us this time?” Fwahe asked fixing the medic with her unsettling stare. 

“I suppose it’s probably best if I do.” Callum replied, “You slayed my current employer and that will put an end to all of his medical malpractices. No one here will need healing so it seems I’m out of a job.” 

“You’ll find another. The hunts never end.” Scarlett said. 

Callum nodded. He began to pack supplies into a black leather bag, in case there was some poor soul that needed saving along the way. When he was ready he slung the bag over his shoulder and picked up Barristan, carrying him the same way Anwen had carried Cato. He brought the sedated traitor into the sitting room where we were all preparing to leave. 

“What are we going to do about the twins?” Imogen asked. 

“They’re beasts now.” Frigga said grimly, “We all know what that means.” 

Frigga struggled to push herself off the couch. She used her sword as cane, hoping for better footing. She began to head towards the twins, her steps were small. She dragged her injured leg behind her, wincing in pain. Frigga took her time, reluctant to carry out the sentence she’d passed. 

I swallowed the lump in my throat and spoke “It shouldn’t be you.” I didn’t want it to be me, but Frigga had already been forced to kill Anwen. She shouldn’t have the twin’s blood on her hands too. 

“He’s right.” Fwahe agreed. 

“They were my responsibility.” Frigga said. 

Despite her convictions she took a few steps back and sat down, glad to have been offered a way out. 

“I’ll do it.” All of our eyes went to Templeton. She was staring at the wolves, and shivering slightly. In her hand she held a pistol, looted from one of the fallen guards. “I saw him turn them. They said their last words when I was in the room. I’ll do it.” 

“Templeton you-“ Imogen began. 

The scholar shook her head and cut her off, “It’s fine. It should be me.” 

Her voice held strong and unwavering, there wasn’t a hint of a stammer to it. She had already made up her mind. We all began to file out of the room. It felt wrong to watch something like this. Templeton closed the heavy doors behind us. 

We waited. 

Imogen started to cough, the dusty hallway irritating her lungs and nostrils. It echoed, growing more raspy and distorted as it faded. 

The first gunshot made me jump. I’d expected the door to muffle the sound more than it did. I tensed and waited for the next shot. It came, and was just as loud as the first. There was a third shot immediately following the second. Maybe Templeton had missed, or she’d stepped to close and one of the twins had jumped at her. She could be dead. My hand hovered above the door handle, ready to throw it open and rush inside. Before I could turn the knob it moved from the other side. Templeton wedged the door open, just wide enough for her to slip through. Her glasses had tiny flecks of blood on them; more specks were dotted across her face, like freckles. I thought it best not to comment on them. 

Templeton pulled up her pants, they were a size too big for her, and adjusted the collar of her shirt before she looked at us. “Let’s go.” She said. 

She wouldn’t have left the job unfinished. There was no need to ask for clarification.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	27. Chapter the Twenty Seventh: Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People adjust to the aftermath of what has just occurred. Choices are made. Your author is as vague as possible to avoid spoilers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think!

We continued down the hall. Callum made the occasional grunt as he shouldered Barristan’s weight by himself. None of us were going to help carry an enemy, despite our gratitude for his caretaker. Fwahe didn’t steer us through any side doors or down back through the servant’s quarters. She was done with all the caution and creeping. We walked past frozen fountains and long-rotted flower arrangements. The further we went the more grandiose the palace grew. I caught on quickly. Fwahe was leading us towards the room we’d been received in, where we’d been forced to the floor. 

When I saw the back of an enormous throne I knew we had just a few more steps to take. As we emerged onto the upper balconies we took note of the room’s occupants. The place was packed with black and red just as the library had been. Hands hovered above weapons, but no one made a move to attack us. When our feet crossed the threshold, I was ready for a fight. Everything changed when the heads of Minimus’ followers started to bow. They began to part, packing themselves in closer then I’d thought possible. They revealed a clear path for us to walk down. 

Frigga limped her way to the front of our party. Despite her strange gait her head was held high, chin thrust upwards with pride. We followed the pace she set, everyone we passed paying us tribute. 

“What’s happening?” I whispered to Scarlett, who had always taken the time to explain hunter’s customs to me before. 

She looked back at me, and shrugged, just as confused. I began to worry this was some kind of trap. 

We began to descend the staircase. The followers surged forward to help with Barristan’s body and Cato’s table. Fwahe bared her teeth at them, unwilling to accept any assistance. Callum on the other hand was happy to pass off his patient to those with greater strength. 

The floor below was just as crowded as the balconies were. The people parted once more, revealing the ancient velvet carpeting and a path to the outdoors. The wide castle doors were open, a thin coating of snow covering the floor. As we drew nearer I could see that there was a carriage waiting for us. Our weapons, the ones we’d lost at the tavern were tied to the top of the carriage. I’d know Cato’s whirligig saw anywhere. 

We were nearly at the door, but the followers started to grow louder. They were chanting something. I couldn’t make it out at first but then they synchronized themselves. The ones who still held weapons rapped them against pillars or cobblestone in time with the words they spoke. 

“Chosen by Kos. Chosen by Kos. Chosen by Kos.” Their chants echoed through the room. 

Slightly star struck we spilled outside. Followers had been waiting for us, shivering despite their heavy robes as the snow bit at them. Their faces brightened when they saw us. 

“Chosen by Kos. Chosen by Kos.” The words echoed behind us. 

“I believe this one is yours Lady Frigga.” A female follower with hood pulled over her head said, her voice was closer thus louder than the chants. The girl held the reigns to a silver mare, draped in a wool blanket. The way the mare tossed her head made her unmistakable, it was Swift. 

“Thank you.” Frigga said taking the reins and stroking Swift’s nose. 

The girl blushed and dipped into a curtsey. She started to step back, heading for the castle. 

“Wait.” Frigga said. 

The girl stopped dead in her tracks. She turned around. “Yes, Lady Frigga?” 

“Why have you done all this?” Frigga asked her. “You imprisoned us, why are you just letting us go?” 

The girl covered her mouth to hide a chuckle. She thought our patron was joking. When her eyes met Frigga’s once more she realized we were clueless. She curtseyed once more and then spoke, 

“Forgive me Lady Frigga, I didn’t realize. The medics all gave the same report, my lady; they said you harnessed magic, that Kos’ own power flowed into yours and you slayed a false idol. None of us questioned Abbot Minimus, he had been chosen by the hunters and the gods. Well I mean, that’s what we thought, my lady. Once word spread we realized we were wrong, Abbot Minimus hadn’t been chosen by Kos. He was controlled by something much darker, but we were blind too it, my lady. Everything became clear once Kos anointed you.” 

“Anointed me?” Frigga asked. 

The girl nodded, “Just look at your hand.” 

Frigga looked down at her hand, the one that had shoved the rod through Minimus’ eye socket. There were distinctive white scars running across her palm, over her wrist and down her arms. The scars looked like bolts of lightning and as she twisted her arm this way and that they seemed otherworldly. I had to blink several times to be sure of it, and even then I was fairly certain it was just my exhausted brain hallucinating things; but Frigga’s scars seemed to glow with a feint blue light. 

Frigga either didn’t see the light or chose not to acknowledge it. 

“I will have none of my work credited to a god.” Frigga muttered, “What Minimus did was clearly wrong. You all aided and abetted him. Any hunter worth a lick of salt would know better than to spread the beast’s plague willingly. I killed the Abbot because he was a monster, and that’s what hunters do, not because a god told me to.” 

“Yes my lady.” The girl said, though she didn’t appear completely convinced. 

“You should always be ready to question those who lead you. I am riding for the Hunter’s Council, I intend to take Minimus’ place, but you must promise me something, girl.” Frigga informed. “What’s your name?” 

“Elizabeth, my lady.” She replied. 

“Elizabeth I want you to promise me that the next time you see someone using their power the way he did, you will put a stop to it. I am enlisting you now, take up arms and stop things like this from ever happening again. Leave Cainhurst, it has taken more than its share of sorrows. Will you do that for me?” 

The girl’s eyes sparkled, grateful to be entrusted with such a task. “Yes my lady!” She replied. 

Frigga grinned. This one little girl was going to break up all of Minimus’ followers for her. With both Imogen and Elizabeth’s assistance she sad astride her trusted mare once more. The dress she had recovered from Barristan’s room was not tailor-made for her. Her hair was uneven, her wounds still unhealed, but she looked as powerful as ever. She was ready to leave Cainhurst and its horrors a thousand miles behind her. I climbed into the carriage with Callum, Cato and Barristan. Templeton had taken the carriage’s reigns. Imogen, Scarlett and Fwahe mounted additional horses. 

The carriage rocked back and forth softly as we headed towards Yharnam. I had to sit on the floor with Callum, both of his patients had need of the benches. Despite the close quarters, exhaustion won out and I drifted to sleep. 

Fwahe poked me in the face, one long fingernail pressing against my cheek until my eyes blinked open. When I came out of the carriage I recognized my surroundings, we were back at Iosefka’s clinic. Altered Boys were helping Valkyries dismount, escorting them inside or leading away their horses. The second my feet hit the ground Piebald swept me up in a bear hug. 

“Thank Kos you’re alive!” He cried. 

“Kos had nothing to do with it.” I admitted once he set me down, “Thank Fwahe if anyone.” 

“No hugs.” Fwahe hissed at him. 

The Altered Boy gave her a bow instead. 

Cypress and Beetle spotted me and squeezed the breath out of me just as Piebald had. 

Callum and Thistle carried Cato inside. Rook propped open doors for them with his feet, keeping a close watch on the unconscious hunter. The Altered Boys refused to let Barristan cross their threshold. They blamed him for the numbing mist and the intrusion, and rightfully so. Barristan was made to wait in the carriage and Cypress volunteered to stand guard. They weren’t taking any chances. 

The inside of the clinic was warm and inviting. Everyone was given a mug of hot coffee. The heat of the metal mugs it was served in returned feeling to our fingers. Even inside the carriage and asleep the ride had been a cold one. The Altered Boy’s waited on the edge of their seat, a thousand questions dancing on the tips of their tongues. They were as polite as they could stand to be. They passed around hot food and refilled our coffee cups before they began begging for the story of our survival. 

Templeton began to tell them everything, and it was only when she began to yawn and repeat her sentences that they relented and persuaded us to go to bed. A communion had been called for tomorrow night, and we were expected. Most of the hunters drifted to sleep right away, but I had slept the whole way home. I couldn’t seem to make myself tired. 

It seems I wasn’t the only one. 

As I lay on the hospital bed, the Altered Boy’s had provided I heard someone else talking. Creeping barefoot across the floor I gently nudged the door of my room opened and poked my head out. 

“I know but-“This was Fwahe’s voice. 

“Don’t give me excuses.” The one cutting her off was Frigga. “You knew everything about me, I told you everything. How could you have kept this from me?” 

“You expected me to just admit to it? I have been chased out of every home I ever had because of this one mistake. Frigga please, they all either hate me or want to kill me. I didn’t tell you because I couldn’t lose you. I’ve withstood a lot of things, but the thought of you being one of the ones…giving me that look they all gave me…Frigga please, I couldn’t.” 

Silence overtook the room. I could feel the tension from here. This crossed the border from overhearing to spying. They deserved their privacy. I closed the door and went back to bed. I tried to ignore their whispering, there were a thousand other things to worry about. Tomorrow’s communion loomed like a black cloud. None of Frigga’s attempts to curry the favor of her fellow hunters had worked before. Dread and anxiety passed me back and forth like a ragdoll, until finally the others began to stir. I had been lying numb and imprisoned in my own head for hours. 

“You ok?” Piebald asked as I rubbed my eyes blearily. 

“Yes.” I said, “It’s just been a lot recently.” 

He nodded his understanding and didn’t press me for more information. 

The Altered Boys had prepared breakfast for us. We ate around the fire; more delighted to be awake and alive then we’d ever been before. Cato had regained consciousness and demanded his hospital bed be taken into the common room so he could participate as well. He was campaigning to go to communion but it was expressly forbidden by Callum. The medic insisted he stay put. Rook hovered near his bed trying to get him to eat, but Cato kept insisting he wasn’t hungry. He was full of complaints, but at least he was lying still and not trying to stand. The wounds must’ve been truly painful if they kept his recklessness at bay. 

Rook was trying to figure out the best way to get Cato to drink. In addition to his missing fingers making things a challenge, he couldn’t seem to get the angle right and kept spilling water all over Cato’s face. The injured hunter didn’t seem to mind. He kept laughing and insisting the Altered Boy atone for his mistakes with affection, stealing kisses every chance he could. After a while I began to suspect Rook was making mistakes on purpose. 

I was suddenly distracted by a hand on my shoulder. 

“Sterling, can I speak to you?” I looked up and met Frigga’s gaze. 

“Sure.” I said, terrified that she might have noticed me, noticing her and Fwahe last night. 

We stepped out into one of the hallways. My heart was beating out of my chest. Frigga sat down on a bench and patted the space next to her. I took my position next to her and waited for her to continue. 

“I wanted both to thank you, and apologize to you.” Frigga began, “I never intended to bring you into a mess like this. When I took you on as a hunter I had no idea things were going to go this way. You’ve stayed loyal along with my most trusted hunters, and for that I am most grateful. However I fully intend to take control of the English Hunting Community, and I can’t say for sure how that is going to go.” 

“Mmhm.” I said, trying to process all of what she’d said. 

She brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and collected herself. “What I mean to say, is that we will assist you if you choose to leave. You’ve more then served your term as a hunter. When I come into power I can make sure you have all the blood you’ll ever need, and we can send you back home.” 

I was stunned. 

Frigga smoothed the skirt of her dress as she waited for my response, keeping her hands busy. I stared, trying to see if the scars would glow again, but had no easier time discerning the real from the imagined. It seemed I’d never be able to decide for sure. 

There were some things I could make up my mind about, and Frigga had presented me with a choice that merited a firm decision. “You know that was all I wanted when you and Templeton first picked me up.” I said. 

Frigga nodded, “I remember.” 

“But that was before I really understood what it all, I mean being a hunter met. You risked your life for us all to stay together at the tournament. I’ve seen towering monsters and, just so many other impossible things. I don’t think I could return to my old life if I wanted too. It’s a real generous offer you’ve made me, but I’m afraid I have to decline; you see I’m kind of a sworn Valkyrie now. That’s kind of a life sentence.” 

She grinned, her whole face awash with delight, “Very well then Sterling, we’re delighted to have you.” 

I stood up and gave her a proper hunter’s bow, “Likewise, Lady Frigga.” 

She curtseyed back to me and then practically danced down the hall back to the others. We all took our time and ate our fill of breakfast. When we finally collected ourselves to leave, we went boldly down the streets. Everyone had their proper weapons back. The Altered Boy’s bounded ahead of our party, swinging around streetlights and leaping over barrels, full of energy and excitement. Frigga was right behind them, marching Swift down the street, a newly polished threaded cane gleaming at her side. Piebald had hung back from his brothers and was walking beside me, right behind Frigga. Fwahe hung towards the back of the pack. 

We were undaunted by the beasts we came across. After battling Minimus’ guards I could cut through crows like butter. Nothing in Yharnam frightened me anymore. It was almost like marching in a parade, the way we carried on through the center of the street, so long as you ignored the slaughtering. A few creatures made attempts to attack us. We cut them down to bleeding corpses without so much as a second thought. 

The communion church was packed. I recognized Gaines, Rochambeau and a few others from the tournament. The faces that had once been foreign had names, or at the very least clans for me to put them too. Representatives from the different hunting communities hovered around the podium, but none stood behind it to speak. 

“Frigga!” The shout cut through the noises in the rest of the room. From the far side a robed figure burst away from a group of nuns and came sprinting towards us. As he ran the hood of his robes fell and mouse-brown hair stuck out from his head in all directions. Our tiny hunter was overjoyed to see us once more. 

Frigga patted him on the head from atop her horse. Imogen swept him up in a hug and Templeton tickled him under the arms until he begged her to stop. After the initial joy wore off he looked around in confusion. 

“Where’s Anwen?” He asked. 

Templeton started to speak, cobbling together a lie about her whereabouts. Frigga held up a hand, cutting the scholar off before she started. 

“She didn’t make it Mouse. Her hunt is over now.” Frigga said softly. 

Mouse’s bottom lip quivered and he struggled to keep from crying. Imogen wrapped her arms around him protectively. She rocked him back and forth, comforting the tiny hunter. 

“Shhh.” Imogen said softly, “It’ll be alright Mouse. We’ll take care of you.” 

“You mean I get to live with you guys again?” Mouse asked, his face brightening. 

“Of course.” Frigga said, “No one’s ever going to take you away again.” 

The young hunter didn’t seem to know whether to stay sad or break into happiness. He clung tightly to Imogen for the rest of the night, and did not return to the nuns. 

As more and more hunters began to arrive we moved towards our designated location, next to the Altered Boys. We waited until there wasn’t a spot of cobblestone left visible on the floor. No one strode into the center. No one rang the big church bell. We all stared at the center, waiting for someone to make the first move. 

Once Frigga was sure that everyone had arrived, she urged Swift forward. The hunters seemed to have expected this and shifted this way and that, trying to make room. She didn’t need to call for attention or wait for the room to quiet down. She did not toss a coin. She had everybody’s attention. 

“Welcome to communion fellow Hunters.” She said, “My name is Lady Frigga, and I am here to claim, by right of conquest, control of the English Hunting Community.” 

“Right of conquest…meaning, you’ve killed Abbot Minimus?” Alfred, the Executioner asked tossing a coin into the bowl. He was one of the hunters seated near the podium, chosen to speak for his collective. 

“That’s correct.” Frigga verified. 

“And you have witnesses?” Alfred asked 

“One of Abbot Minimus’ spies is being held at the Altered Boy’s clinic. He is to be put to trial but he can verify any of the information you require.” Frigga explained. 

“Why didn’t you bring this incredible witness with you?” The executioner questioned. 

“He was injured and requires medical attention. Outsiders aren’t allowed in hunter’s communions so I thought it best to leave him behind with the medic. He is under guard, and will not be going anywhere.” 

“But that means-“ 

“Leave her be, Alfred.” Another one of the hunters near the podium said. He wore a pair of small shades despite it being both night time and indoors. “We all came here to hear what she had to say. This is not an interrogation.” 

“Very well, Lucian.” Alfred relented. 

“Lady Frigga, you have the floor.” Lucian said, returning control of the room to our patron. 

Frigga told the entire story, from the day the library crumbled to ashes until the moment we left Cainhurst. All over hunter’s tossed coins pleading to ask questions but after Alfred’s Frigga decided she wasn’t taking any. They were especially adamant when she had to explain Templeton’s reincarnation. As soon as her Vileblood status was made common knowledge, she had to endure glares and dirty looks from the other hunters. Frigga wouldn’t be interrupted; she carried on, firm and absolute. She presented her accusations and theories about Minimus’ experiments. He required so much beasts blood to manufacture the serums, and keep his subjects alive that she suspected he was the cause of blood shortages. The objections from the church hunters were brought to a complete halt when Frigga revealed her scar. They seemed to agree with Minimus’ followers on the matter of Kos’ personal selection manifested in the person of Frigga Hemlock. 

“Does anyone wish to contest her claim?” Lucian asked once Frigga stopped speaking. 

There were a few nervous glances. Lots of eyes went to Alfred, but no one actually said anything. The church was awash with silence. 

It didn’t stay that way for long. 

“I guess that settles it then.” Frigga said with a grin. 

The Altered Boys erupted into cheers, right along with us. Our enthusiasm was quickly picked up by the rest of the room. Like a wave it gathered and crashed over us, an overwhelming mix of joy, relief and pride. Even Alfred begrudgingly brought his hands together in congratulations. Frigga let us have our fun; she didn’t start up again until we’d worn our lungs out. 

“Thank you; thank you all my fellow Hunters. I intend to serve you all to the full extent of my abilities.” Frigga said, “Shall we begin this communion?” 

With the matter of leadership settled things began to break into the usual communion cacophony. People clamored to be the first to speak, the silver flash of silver coins clattering against the floor. Once again Frigga ignored the shining silver spilling out before her, and spoke her mind first. 

“I am sure that you all want to address one of the more concerning matters I’ve brought to your attention.” Frigga said, wheeling Swift around until the horse was turned towards us and Frigga was looking at her Valkyries, “The Vileblood situation.” 

All eyes shifted from Frigga to Templeton and Fwahe. The scholar seemed to shrink back, looking for something to hide behind, while the lone huntress surged forward glaring back into the judgmental faces of the gathered hunters. Methods of death and destruction were shouted with violent conviction at the two women. 

Swift snorted, stamping her hooves. Whether she did it at Frigga’s command or not it silenced the clamor and Frigga addressed the crowd. 

“I know you all have a lot of mixed feelings about this. My own took a long time to sort out.” She began. “Let me begin by making this absolutely clear, these two Hunters are under my protection. If you take it upon yourselves to harm them, the punishments will be extreme and irreversible.” 

The hunters, who had been shouting, stopped very quickly. They shot worried glances at one another, but didn’t dare speak out against their newly appointed leader. 

“Templeton was turned against her will, at the hands of the slain Abbot.” Frigga continued, “She had no choice in the matter and made every effort to control herself. She was offered one of my huntress’ lives over and over again, and she fought against herself, refusing to give into her hunger. This proves, without one shred of deniability that Vilebloods are a thing entirely separate from the beasts we cleanse the streets of. They have their wits intact.” 

Templeton looked around the room nervously. She took a few steps forward on shaking legs. Her glasses reflected the candlelight and confused faces of the gathered hunters. 

“And I think we can all agree Templeton has more wits then most of us.” Frigga continued. 

Good natured chuckles spread through the room. Templeton’s face lit up, she breathed a sigh of relief. 

“She will always be my trusted friend and ally.” Frigga said, “She is yours as well, for she was sworn in at Communion, you were here to witness her take her oaths and get her bells. You all welcomed her and have benefited from her research and experience.” 

No one made any objections. 

“And then there is Fwahe.” Frigga said. 

The lone huntress gritted her teeth. Her hands clenched into fists and she braced herself as though someone was going to hit her. Her eyes were shut tight. 

“Fwahe and I have been intimately involved with each other for years now. My feelings for her run deeper than the misplaced hatred I had for Vilebloods.” Frigga said. She turned her attention away from the crowd and spoke directly to Fwahe. She was ignoring the rest of the room, “When I found out what you were I was appalled. I was afraid. I felt betrayed and I spoke without thinking. I see that now and I apologize.” 

Fwahe’s face softened when the words hit her. The tension she’d packed into her hands and shoulders, relented. She opened her eyes. 

“I can’t begin to understand your condition. I know you’ve…consumed what you needed too; you require blood to live the same as everyone here.” 

“Yeah but we don’t eat humans!” Someone in the crowd shouted. 

Frigga shot them a glare. “Fwahe has assured me she’s only hunted the ones who’ve hunted her. She acts only in self-defense. I have been given no reason to disbelieve her. It was she who made possible our escape from Cainhurst. She defended my hunters, rescuing them and guiding us all through the castle. I would be dead if not for her phenomenal efforts to rescue me. She’s acted with strength and chivalry, following a code of honor that I thought had died off long ago. Her loyalty to me was something I never should’ve called into question.” 

As she spoke she began to steer Swift forward, slowly closing the distance between herself and the Vileblood. Fwahe looked up at her apprehensively. Frigga’s thin fingers titled Fwahe’s chin upwards. Her breath, her words, were spoken so close to Fwahe that the Vileblood’s hair was blown back and forth with every syllable. 

“I have made my choice.” Frigga pressed her lips against the stunned Vileblood’s. She savored it for a second, before she withdrew and continued to explain herself, “If you’re going to be the death of me, that’s how I want to go. For as long as you’ll have me I swear to be yours. Please understand despite my initial hesitation I am-“ 

Fwahe cut her speech short, returning her lover’s kiss. Frigga’s cheeks went red. Our patron had been caught by surprise. 

There were sudden cries of contempt but they were drowned out by cheers started by Imogen and Scarlett, cheers quickly taken up by the Altered Boys. 

“That’s all well and good.” Alfred said tossing yet another coin into the ring and cutting their kiss short, “But you can’t possibly expect us to allow Vilebloods to frolic through the streets, cutting down hunters one by one until there are none of us left.” 

Frigga dropped her smiling face and affectionate tone as quickly turning away from her lover’s lips. “No, I do not. I don’t believe either of them to be capable of slaying an ally, but I do not expect all of you to accept them with the same feelings I do. They did not save your life; you did not see their accomplishments first hand.” 

“That is correct, how do you propose they be dealt with?” Alfred prompted. 

“I have decided to employ them both as Rangers. They will go as far as they must, combing the globe for cures, collecting information and finding out how far the sickness has spread. We have been cut off from the world for far too long. Templeton’s intelligence is unquestionable, as is Fwhae’s ferocity. From spring until fall each year they will travel, like lone wolves. In the warmer months a wolf can survive on its own, but come winter their return is expected. The pack must come together if it is able to withstand the cold. I trust this solution will satisfy us all.” 

Frigga’s plans were accepted immediately. She had spoken all she needed to for the night, and opened the floor for others discussions. Everyone faded back into their routines, and communion continued until the sun began to glitter on the horizon. When the meeting was concluded and hunters began to file out through the various tunnels, Frigga instructed us to hang back. People paraded past, offering congratulations. They were as happy to shake my hand as anyone else’s, excited to speak to any available Valkyrie. 

We were the last to leave, heading home in the sun-soaked dawn. Traveling down the street, unafraid and unfettered with my battle-tested companions all around, I felt more like a Hunter then I ever had. It was an unsure world we were stepping out into. We had a lot more then monsters to cut through to secure our safety; but all I had to do to reassure myself was look to our leader. Frigga had sworn to protect those under her care, and now she had army to command and make it so. The doubters would come, but we outweighed them a hundred to one. She would never have to worry about the Valkyries numbers getting thin ever again. 

Fwahe walked beside her, beaming with pride. She had found a family in the Valkyries, just as I had. I hoped the other hunters would learn to accept her, in time. 

In time all things would come to pass. Cato’s wounds would heal. He would go off and fight beasts, stringing together new necklaces from whatever he slayed. We would find a new home, taking up residence in the old theater, reuniting where we’d been split apart. Imogen and Scarlett never went hunting without the other, they became inseparable. In time Barristan would be tried for his crimes, found guilty and hung by the neck until dead. Frigga tied the knot and Cato pulled the lever. Cato killed him before the turncoat could say his last words, claiming his hand slipped. Nobody believed him. In time I found comfort in the grip of a hunter’s axe. I had learned to wield the weapon as well as any of my companions. I kept the bat’s wing that the twins had tied around it for luck, and thought of them often. Mouse grew stronger and stronger each year, he had vowed to wield Anwen’s hammer one day. We all enjoyed watching as he mastered it. 

An endless hunt lay in front of us. The prospect of this would’ve terrified the boy in South End on that first rainy night. Now the hunts excited me, I was half-cut with blood. I had a proper trick weapon and I knew how to use it. I was under the protection of Frigga Hemlock, Patron Huntress of the English Hunting Community. I went hunting almost every night, keeping the streets clean like any good hunter. I’d learned a lot from my companions, but one lesson stood out in sharp contrast to the others. When I stood against beasts, large or small, slow or fast, only one thing mattered; I was fearless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	28. Epilouge: Yuletide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this whole thing, my dear reader it has been my honor to provide this story to you, and I hope you have enjoyed it. Thank you again and again, I hope it has been a satisfying tale.

We’d been living in the theater for three full years. We’d converted the dressing rooms into sleeping spaces, much like the library. Despite the wishes Frigga had kept in the past, of expanding the Valkyries into a clan the size of Byrgenwerth, she never asked for new members. We stayed small, though the Altered Boys often visited. 

It had been two years since we’d seen Templeton and Fwahe. Templeton had taken a messenger with her, placing the shriveled skeletal creature in a plant pot and toting it along on all of her adventures. Apparently it liked to try and bite Fwahe, and couldn’t stand the rain. She would send us letters regularly. Last winter they had been stuck in the black forests of Germany which were more dangerous than our own forbidden woods. Regretfully they couldn’t accept our Yuletide invitations to spend the winter in Yharnam. The year before that Templeton had been combing through the Vatican’s archive and insisted the potential research was more important than a reunion. 

But this year they were coming home, due to arrive any day. 

“Come on Rook, I know you don’t have fingers but you got eyes don’t you? Center it!” Cato’s shouting disturbed me from my thoughts. Winter holidays were one of the few non-violent things he remembered from his childhood. He took them very seriously and had been causing quite a stir as he attempted to drape every visible surface with decorations. 

Rook moved the pine wreath he was attempting to hang a few inches to the left, nudging the wire hanger along with his thumbs. Cato nodded and the Altered Boy moved onto the next balcony. The two of them had spent weeks weaving together wreaths and garlands, having their palms sliced by boughs of holly and sprigs of mistletoe. Cato alone created a market-wide shortage of red ribbon, buying up every scrap he could find. 

Frigga, Imogen and Scarlett had made an expedition to the Forbidden Woods, meeting with the Woodland Hunters. Together they had scouted the forest for an enormous pine tree and carted it back to the theater. At communion hunters offered up trinkets to cover it with, pleased to participate in the Winter Celebrations any way they could. Our tree was covered with small silver crosses from the church, painted pinecones from the woodlands and glass trinkets from the city. Everything sparkled and shimmered. 

Frigga had started sitting by the frost covered windows in the lobby. She’d drape her skirt over the cushioned leather benches and curl up close to the cold glass, reading from a book while making frequent glances outside. Snow came down in dregs, the outside world bleached white and grey. Our expected guests would be easy to spot. 

They came into the theater bringing a storm of snow with them. The air dropped several degrees when Frigga threw the front doors open, welcoming them inside. Templeton’s hair was caked with snow. She wore the same ratty button up shirt and ink stained pants as always, but now draped over her shoulders was a fur cloak. If I had to guess it would have to be Fwahe’s doing, they were of a similar style, though rabbit ears, run through with wire so they stood straight were put in the place of cleric beast antlers. Frigga swept the small scholar up in a hug. 

Fwahe came inside after the scholar. She was weighed down by several large backpacks, brimming with supplies, stolen books and other things the two Vilebloods had collected. Fwahe let the packs slide off her shoulders, falling to the ground where they may. She tapped her foot, still bare despite the snow. She was impatient, waiting for Frigga to break off her embrace with Templeton so that she might have her turn. 

“C’mon don’t keep Templeton all to yourself!” Cato called leading the rest of the Valkyries into the lobby. “Let us have our turn!” 

Frigga smiled and let go of Templeton. Fwahe swept her up not a second later, and the two weren’t seen apart from each other for the rest of the night. 

After the initial reunion we made our way into the auditorium. During our stay we’d taken out most of the seats, allowing for tables, bookshelves and more living space. The room was dripping with red and green and Templeton’s jaw dropped when she saw the size of the tree. 

Before we even took our seats at the table, which had been piled with our favorite foods, Cato began passing around mugs of ale. Templeton tried to refuse him, but he insisted everyone have their fill of Yuletide spirit, or spirits as it were. The Altered Boys, knowing Frigga’s penchant for dancing, had spent weeks practicing on a variety of instruments. None of them were as adept as Fla’rue had been, but they made a nice sort of band all the same. After dinner was eaten they took up their places and began to play song after song. 

Imogen, Scarlett and I shoved furniture out of the way, trying to create a suitable dance floor. The stage couldn’t be used, the Yuletide tree was entirely too big. We nearly knocked an entire bookshelf over in our haste to give Frigga the room that she needed. She hadn’t danced in so long. 

And oh, dance she did. She and her Vileblood swirled around the room time and time again. Frigga’s flowing skirts, and silver hair, now grown back to its proper length, trailed behind her. They elevated her natural elegance; she practically floated across the floor. 

The other couples weren’t wasting their chances either. Rook and Cato started up only seconds after Frigga had started. Their movements were far less coordinated and lacked all grace. They tripped over each other’s toes and bumped in to everyone else. They couldn’t even take themselves seriously they would just look at each other and break into fits of laughter. 

Scarlett and Imogen danced very well with one another. They were both of a romantic mind, and wanted the dance floor filled, trying to imagine themselves at some kind of fairytale ball. They were quick to pull in Altered Boys from the sidelines, begging the ones not in the band to dance with them. Piebald took me for a turn across the floor. Somebody else asked Templeton. 

I lost track of time. 

It was only when none of us could feel our feet that the dancing stopped. Mugs of hot cinnamon cider were passed around. The Vilebloods retrieved their packs from the front lobby. Templeton began rifling through one of them passing around brown-paper wrapped parcels to each of us. She had brought back a book for each of us, toting the tomes for miles more then I’d ever walked. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I still hadn’t learned to read. 

Fwahe had brought back some trinkets as well. She gave Cato a string of teeth, many of which had runes carved into them. She told him she’d stolen most of them from museums, the teeth of beasts before any of our times, making his necklace one of the rarest in the world. The others she had taken from beasts she or Templeton had killed. Cato smiled with pride and slipped the necklace over his head, the new teeth crackling against a strand of human teeth, he’d taken Barristan’s full set. 

Fwahe presented Frigga with a hair pin. “I hoped you were going to grow it back.” She said, helping place it in the huntresses’ hair. 

We exchanged other meaningless things. Imogen and Scarlett were given gloves or hair ribbons. Someone gave me a dagger. 

In the end it was all secondary, there was nothing that could compare to being reunited, finally at our full strength. With the scent of cinnamon and pine in the air we began to grow drowsy. One by one we dropped off to sleep around the towering tree. I fell asleep smiling, satisfied and ready to spend the winter harboring two Vilebloods. 

Come whatever may, we would be ready for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the final time, thank you for reading.  
> Please leave a comment and tell me if you enjoyed :D


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